Days of Beer and Dandelions
by Karibou
Summary: COMPLETE! The team’s latest quest to save the universe leads them to an unexpected and exotic destination…Pure fluff with a lovingly humorous tribute to my roots thrown in for fun.
1. Another Day at the Office

Days of Beer and Dandelions

By Karibou

Disclaimer: Not mine. (C'mon, if I owned them, would there ever have been a Pete?) Gecko, MGM, etc., etc., are the unchallenged masters of this universe. I just like to visit and tinker with the space-time continuum.

Summary: One shot. My entry in the S-J Ficathon (several months late – sorry!). Pure fluff with a lovingly humorous tribute to my roots thrown in for fun. The team's latest quest to save the universe leads them to an unexpected and exotic destination…

Rating: K+

Set in Season 7, post-_Grace_, pre-_Chimera_. (Right before the wheels came off the wagon.) I took a few liberties with the President's character at the end, but I think you'll forgive me.

Oh, and this is proof that I _can_ write something in less than 80,000 words.

* * *

Chapter One

Sneezing loudly, Daniel blinked his red, watery eyes and silently cursed his rotten luck. Looking around the alien planet, he was forced to admit that the scenery was beautiful; lush, flowering vegetation colored the landscape for as far as the eye could see. It was a tropical paradise – and absolute hell on his allergies.

"Can't you take something for that?"

The dry, somewhat amused question didn't annoy Daniel, though it was clearly aimed at poking fun at him. After seven years of working with the man, Daniel was far too used to Jack O'Neill's quirky humor to be bothered by it anymore. Sighing, he replied in a patient tone. "Yes, Jack. I take antihistamines every day to fend off hay fever. Unfortunately, they seem to be somewhat ineffective in dealing with whatever's growing on this planet."

Jack regarded his friend quietly for a moment. Then, with a carefree shrug, he turned back around. "Sucks to be you," he quipped.

Making a face at his friend's back, Daniel was quick to notice a grin being smothered on the lovely face of the team's second-in-command. "Sure, Sam – go ahead and laugh. After all, this is _almost_ as funny as the time on P5X-262 when you guys all ate that bad native meat-paste and wound up with food poisoning."

Sam's face instantly grew serious – and a bit green. "Jeez. You just had to remind me of that before lunch." Stifling a shudder, she swallowed thickly. "I don't think I kept solid food down for a week after that incident."

From his position a few steps ahead, Jack snorted. "None of us did, except for good ol' Danny-Boy – who neglected to mention that in certain tribal cultures, surviving violent illness is just another rite of passage." Daniel could hear the glare in his friend's voice. "He just kept that little tidbit of information to himself and passed on the moldy pâté – leaving more for the rest of us, of course."

Daniel was about to reply when Teal'c's somber voice interrupted. "In fact, O'Neill, you are incorrect. We were not all ill for weeks after that incident. I was able to ingest a normal diet within several hours of showing symptoms."

Jack shook his head. "Yeah, well, that's because Junior was able to suck the toxins out of your body." He winced. "I think that was the only time in my life I actually wished for a symbiote."

Sam nodded vehemently. "Even Janet and her talent for miracle working couldn't do much for us on that one." Making a face, she shivered again. "Give me a gunshot or a broken bone anytime over weeks of hurling my guts up."

Ahead of the rest of the party and safely out of visual range, Jack allowed an affectionate smile to flit over his features. There weren't many women who could claim something so outrageous with any amount of authority, but Samantha Carter was definitely in a position to make such a declaration. And he couldn't help feeling a little proud of the fact that his gutsy second-in-command would prefer a wallop of honest pain over the slow torture of the stomach flu. It sounded suspiciously like something _he _might say.

Behind him, the easy, teasing chatter continued. Anyone witnessing the scene would clearly see the warm, family-like bond that SG-1 shared. As the sound of his teammates' laughing banter filled his ears, Jack found himself feeling relaxed and content – two emotions which had been sadly lacking in his life before he entered the stargate program. He'd lost much in his life, some of which was irreplaceable. But the bond he shared with the three people beside him filled many of the dark corners in his soul which he'd once thought hopelessly empty.

And at the center of that bright spot was one Major Samantha Carter.

Maybe it was his age creeping up on him, but at moments like this, when the mission was routine and the conversation lighthearted, he often found himself reflecting on the ways his life had changed since his first (somewhat confrontational) meeting with his favorite blond spitfire. Though he would have been the last person in the universe to admit it at the time, she'd thoroughly impressed him with her willingness to stand up for herself in a room full of testosterone and superior officers. Later, as weeks and months passed, Jack had found his respect for her growing exponentially as she doggedly accepted the discomfort and chaos of off-world life with quiet dignity and staunch determination. It wasn't long before he began to see her as a damn fine soldier, not just a brainiac scientist.

And it wasn't long after _that_ before he began to see her as a damn fine _woman_.

That, of course, was where the trouble really began. Because, ever since the moment his silly heart realized that it's deepest desire was standing smack-dab in the shoes of his second-in-command, his personal life had been one, tangled mess of dead-end streets. He couldn't pursue a relationship with her because of the frat regs. He couldn't get around the frat regs without resigning his commission. He couldn't resign his commission because the universe depended on soldiers like him. And to be the best soldier, he needed his braniac second-in-command. So he couldn't even distance himself from her professionally. He was, in a nutshell, pretty much screwed. Most days, it was tolerable. But some days, it was sheer torture.

As the team approached the camp that had been established several weeks ago by SG-17, Jack decided to put thoughts of his no-win situation out of his head. A pragmatist at heart, he realized that it did little good to dwell on it. Taking a deep breath, he slowed his pace and allowed his colleagues to catch up to him.

"Teal'c, you can check in with Major Greenborne and see what sort of perimeter they've got set up. Daniel, you might as well jump right in and have a look at this artifact they've uncovered." Pausing, he regarded his second-in-command somewhat bemusedly. "And Carter, I guess you should probably do… something scientific." Truly, he had no idea what her priorities for the mission were.

Sam fixed him with a familiar look of patient amusement. "Yes, sir. I'll be analyzing the low-level EM radiations which seem to be emanating from the ruins."

Nodding briskly, he gestured toward the camp. "Of course you will." Looking pleased to have delivered everyone safely to their assigned tasks, he dropped his pack to the ground with a satisfied _thump_.

"Ah, Jack?" Daniel's voice held the hint of a smile.

"Yes, Daniel?" Jack wasn't sure he liked the tone of his teammate's voice.

"Just what will _you_ be doing?"

For a moment, O'Neill appeared to be completely at a loss. Then, with a brilliant sparkle in his dark brown eyes, he replied succinctly.

"Supervising, of course."

Turning around, Jack pretended not to notice the three pairs of rolled eyes which followed in the wake of his comment.

* * *

Several hours later, Sam found herself idly tapping the LED screen of a portable oscilloscope. It had been a thoroughly uneventful afternoon. Teal'c and the Colonel had disappeared to parts unknown shortly after arrival in camp, leaving her and Daniel to their work. Honestly, she wished she could be more excited about the mission, but archaeology was Daniel's thing. The science involved with this discovery was thoroughly uninteresting. A low-level electromagnetic field was emanating from somewhere within the ruins, but that alone wasn't very remarkable. While it was possible that some sort of alien power source was generating the field, but it was just as likely that the readings were the result of something organic or naturally occurring. Under ordinary circumstances, even the less-exciting alternatives might have piqued her interest, but she found that her heart was simply not in her work today.

It was, unfortunately, rather tied up with a certain off-limits Colonel.

Exhaling in sheer frustration, Sam unceremoniously dropped the expensive piece of equipment back onto the makeshift lab counter in her research tent. Much as she wanted to forget all thoughts of her forbidden feelings, she found doing so impossible. It wasn't that she didn't understand the futility of her longing – she _definitely_ got how impossible things were. Sam was usually a practical, determined, down-to-earth kind of person and found dwelling on hopeless situations unproductive. There was just one problem.

In only two short days, the most dreaded, dark, miserable holiday on the calendar would be upon her.

_Valentine's Day_.

Wincing in spite of herself, Sam faced the thought with all the enthusiasm of a condemned man approaching a firing squad. For years, the silly Hallmark holiday had come and gone, bringing with it empty feelings of loneliness and rejection. She knew it was ridiculous to feel that strongly about something so arbitrary and unimportant, but every time February 14th showed up on her desk calendar, she found herself feeling like the shy, geeky adolescent who never got a valentine while other girls were showered with flowers and chocolate.

It was sad, but even though Sam was now a successful, important woman with one of the most amazing jobs in the universe, somewhere deep down, she was still that quiet, lonely girl waiting for a heart-shaped box of candy which never seemed to materialize.

Swallowing a sudden lump of emotion, she tried to forget the futility of her feelings. Because now, instead of being ignored by the object of her infatuation, she was forced to endure something much worse. Constantly in close proximity to him, Sam was reminded of everything she couldn't have on a daily basis. It was maddening. Even if he _wanted_ to send her a valentine, he couldn't. Hell, he could be court-martialed and sent to jail if he did.

How depressing was _that_?

Rubbing her temples in sheer frustration, Sam was about to give up on her research and seek out something more cheerful to occupy her time, when suddenly every instrument on her lab bench seemed to light up at once.

Eyes widening, she started to process the data in front of her with the lightning-quick efficiency she was renown for. As her mind began to sort out and organize the information, a frown worried the spot just between her eyebrows. In a matter of moments, a dark but familiar thought flitted across her consciousness.

_This can't be good_.

* * *

Three hours later, the four members of SG-1 stepped tiredly back through the stargate. Their faces showed the combined strain of too much walking and a large dose of uncertainty. Trudging down the embarkation ramp, Jack's expression was a mixture of fatigue and frustration.

"SG-1. This is unexpected." Hammond's voice held a note of concern as he approached his flagship team.

With a familiar wry smile, Jack plodded toward the General and sighed loudly. "By now, I'd think you'd expect the unexpected from us."

Ignoring his teammate's glib sarcasm, Daniel quickly got down to business. "There were some complications at the camp."

Hammond's eyes sharpened. "What kind of complications?"

"Oh, you know. The usual." Jack pulled off his cap and ran a hand through his already-tousled silver hair. "Accidental encounter with alien technology. Impending doom. And a general lack of understanding thrown in for good measure."

Sensing Hammond's growing impatience with Jack's flippant attitude, Sam stepped forward to fill in the blanks. "Daniel had a little, um, mishap at the camp. He seems to have somehow activated a communication device buried in the ruins. We're not sure what message it's sending, or who it's trying to contact, but there's definitely a beacon of some sort sending out encrypted information."

Hammond's eyebrows shot up. "How powerful is this communication device?"

Sam shifted nervously. "Very powerful. The only reason I returned was because I'm pretty sure I can pick up the signal here. Hopefully, I'll have better luck analyzing it in my lab than I did in the field."

Exhaling slowly, the General did not look pleased. "I assume that SG-17 is aware of the potential danger."

Jack nodded. "Yup. They've increased their security measures. Teal'c and I offered to stay behind and help out, but Greenborne thought we'd better make sure Carter and Jackson got back here in one piece, seeing as they're probably the only hope we have of fixing this mess."

Hammond nodded. "I'd say that's a fair assessment. As soon as you've been cleared by Doctor Frasier, you can get to work immediately."

Carter nodded. "Yes, sir."

Taking in the ragged and defeated looks on the faces of his flagship team, Hammond tried to keep his own apprehension contained. At this point, there was really only one thing he could say.

"Dismissed."

* * *


	2. Butterflies and Gaslights

Chapter Two

Completely immersed in the data on her computer screen, Sam didn't hear the door to her lab open.

"I brought you some coffee."

Jumping at the unexpected voice, Sam clasped a hand over her heart and turned toward her visitor. "Janet! You startled me!"

Laughing, the other woman set a large paper cup down on Sam's workbench. "I think a marching band could have come through here and you wouldn't have noticed."

Sam smiled guiltily. "I was a bit wrapped up in my work," she admitted. Then, rubbing the bridge of her nose, she sank back wearily in her chair. "What time is it, anyway?"

Janet pointed to the clock on Sam's desk. "After midnight. You've been in here for six hours. Which is why I thought you could use some coffee."

Reaching for the cup gratefully, Sam blinked away some of her exhaustion. "Anyone else having any luck with this stupid thing?"

Janet shook her head. "Daniel's been locked in his office since you locked yourself in here. Jack and Teal'c gave General Hammond as much information on the situation as they could, but I'm pretty sure they're sleeping now."

Wits dulled by fatigue, Sam wasn't quite able to cover the wistful expression that crossed her features at the mention of her CO. "I'm glad someone is."

A knowing look crossed Janet's lovely features. She shrugged, a teasing smirk on her face. "You could go join him," she said with a giggle.

Sam's eyes widened comically. "Janet!" she hissed, looking around to be sure no one was nearby. "Would you shut up!"

The doctor just grinned. "Oh, would you relax? Nobody's listening."

Glaring at her friend, Sam did not look appeased. "Every inch of this place is under surveillance," she muttered darkly. "How would you know if someone is listening?"

Janet just rolled her eyes. "Sam, you're paranoid. And heck, even if someone _was_ listening, I guarantee no one would be surprised by this conversation. The only person who seems to be in the dark about your little infatuation is Jack. And his cluelessness is testament to his _own_ little infatuation."

Sam stared at her friend in disbelief. "Will you _be quiet_?" she said from between clenched teeth. "This is not a conversation I want to have here."

Janet examined her friend closely before smiling a little sadly. "I know, Sam. And I'm not trying to make you uncomfortable. It's just that life is short, especially in this job. Every year as we approach Valentine's day, I can see how much this situation is killing you, and I find myself hoping that _this_ might be the year when things change between you two."

Swallowing back a sudden lump of emotion, Sam shook her head. "It can't be, Janet. There's too much in the way."

Janet was about to reply when the phone on Sam's desk rang, interrupting her.

The two women exchanged worried looks. A phone call this late at night was rarely a good sign. Wordlessly, Sam rushed to her desk and picked up the receiver.

"Carter," she said crisply. Then, after a moment, she nodded. "I'll be right there." Hanging up the phone, she turned to Janet, who was regarding her expectantly. "It's Daniel," Sam explained. "He thinks he's found something."

* * *

When Sam and Janet walked into Daniel's office less than five minutes later, excitement was clearly painted on the archaeologist's face. In stark contrast, Jack sat on one of the room's chairs, looking like he'd just been woken up from a sound sleep. Teal'c was also present, though he looked as composed and dignified as always. 

Daniel didn't waste any time getting down to business. "You'll never believe what I found," he said animatedly.

"I'll be lucky if I _understand_ what you found," Jack muttered dryly.

Completely ignoring the interruption, Daniel grabbed a piece of paper off his desk and handed it to Sam. "What does this look like to you?"

Taking the paper, Sam immediately realized she was looking at a digital photograph of a museum artifact. At first, she didn't notice anything odd about the intricately carved jar, but after a moment, the design on the piece clicked into focus. A series of blue flowers, oddly reminiscent of dandelions, were arranged in a repeating hexagonal pattern. Reflexively, she gasped. "Oh my gosh," she whispered. "These are the same markings that were on the walls of the ruins."

Daniel nodded, smiling triumphantly. "This urn was found at a dig in Egypt almost sixty years ago, though it clearly was not Egyptian in origin. Some scientists believed it was a Canopic jar, but it was such an atypical example, that many thought it was just junk. It's been x-rayed, but no usable images were obtained. It was thought that a high lead concentration in the ceramic glaze was interfering with the scan. A few scientists wanted to open it, but have been unable to figure out how to do so without causing extensive damage to the artifact. It appears to be made of a strangely resilient clay compound." His eyes glowed with anticipation. "I'd be willing to bet this was created by the same civilization which built those ruins."

Jack seemed to be paying attention now. "So how did it end up in Egypt?"

Shrugging, Daniel seemed to give the question a moment of thought. "Probably the same way the Stargate got there – brought by a Goa'uld."

Jack's face darkened. "Great," he muttered. "So where do we need to go to get this little vase of yours? Egypt? Europe?" Suddenly, he cringed. "Please tell me we don't need to raid a snakehead mothership for this."

Daniel shook his head. "Nothing that exotic," he replied cheerfully. "This is actually the best part. I _know_ one of the archaeologists working at the museum where this is kept. I think, if I pop in for a little visit, I might persuade him to let me borrow it for a while."

Looking annoyed, Jack rubbed his forehead. "Why should we bother?" he asked. "If this thing is being held in the states, I'm sure we can commandeer it under some sort of national security clause."

Daniel rolled his eyes, sighing deeply. "Subtlety isn't really your thing, is it?" A look of amusement passed between Sam and Janet at his assessment. Daniel smiled patiently. "I thought we might be better off flying under the radar on this. An old colleague asking to look at an interesting artifact is fairly unremarkable. Six black SUV's packed with Secret Service agents commandeering something from a public museum might cause a bit of a stir."

A moment passed. Then, with obvious reluctance, Jack agreed. "Fine," he said unenthusiastically. "Let's do this your way." Then, still looking moderately annoyed, he speared his friend with a questioning look. "You still haven't said where we're going."

Suddenly, Daniel looked a bit sheepish. "It's going to be fun," he said with a smile.

"Fun?" Jack's already grim face darkened further. "I'm not sure I like the sound of this."

Sam, too, was starting to get a little worried. Anytime Daniel had that particular look on his face, it usually meant he didn't want to divulge some particularly unappealing bit of information. It was, in fact, the exact look he'd displayed earlier that day when he'd explained how he'd accidentally activated the alien communication device. "Daniel," she asked uncertainly, "where _exactly_ is that jar?"

Daniel glanced from Jack's dark face to Sam's concerned one and decided to just spill the beans. "At the public museum in Milwaukee."

"Milwaukee?" Jack blinked.

"As in, Wisconsin?" Sam's heart sank.

Daniel nodded. "I figure if we catch a plane now, we can be at the museum when it opens tomorrow."

Sam noticed Janet stifling a grin. Glaring at her friend, she sighed in resignation. With Valentine's day bearing down on her like a freight train and no hope for romance on her horizon, about the only thing which could make the day worse was to suddenly find herself saving the world in a city which hosted a team of racing sausages.

What else could _possibly_ go wrong?

* * *

"I know it's supposed to be cold in the Midwest this time of year, but this is _ridiculous_," Sam muttered grumpily as an acid-cold blast of wind plowed through her jacket. The streets of downtown Milwaukee were the color of faded steel, perfectly matching the frozen skies above. Week-old snow had faded from a crisp white to a dirty gray, and everything within fifteen feet of a roadway was completely encrusted with the salt used to keep the streets from freezing over. Even wrapped in a ski parka, Sam felt completely exposed to the bitter winds which ripped through the city. 

Walking beside her, Jack just grinned. "C'mon, Carter. This is perfect ice-fishing weather."

Two steps behind them, Daniel chimed in helpfully. "Did you know that every year, on New Year's Day, a group of people calling themselves 'Polar Bears' actually go swimming in Lake Michigan? Compared to that kind of cold, this is really nothing remarkable."

Sam regarded them both with a look of disbelief. "That's crazy," she said between shivers.

Jack smirked. "Which part? The ice-fishing? Or the Polar Bears?"

"Both," she replied succinctly. "Anyone who would willingly spend time outdoors in this kind of weather is certifiable."

Teal'c inclined his head, looking totally unaffected by the brutal temperature. "On Chulak, we often would fight blindfolded in the snow to test our battle skills."

Sam rolled her eyes. "There must be a testosterone component to this."

Jack's eyes lit up teasingly as he replied. "I thought the location of your reproductive organs had nothing to do with what you could handle in the line of duty."

Stopping dead in her tracks, Sam leveled a glare at him which made the weather seem tropical in comparison. "With all due respect, sir, is this _really_ an argument you want to have right now?" Behind her, Daniel and Teal'c had also stopped walking. The pair exchanged uneasy glances as they took note of Sam's rising color.

Suddenly realizing he was walking by himself, Jack paused and looked around. When he saw his second-in-command's frosty expression, he realized he'd inadvertently struck a nerve with his teasing humor. Holding up his hands in a gesture of surrender, Jack backtracked as quickly as possible. "Easy, Carter. I was just trying to be funny – which, obviously, I failed miserably at. We all know you're as capable as any of us."

Sam's glare didn't shift a micron.

Recognizing the look on her face, Jack immediately knew he'd have to do better than that if he wanted any peace for the rest of this mission. Sighing at his uncanny ability to say exactly the _wrong_ thing, he tried again. "Hell, Carter, you're _more_ capable than any of us. And we all know you're a pro at surviving cold climates. After all, when we landed in Antarctica all those years ago, it was you who managed to trek up the crevasse to look for escape routes, not me." Seeing a slight thaw in her expression, he pressed forward. "So, please accept my humble apology. It's either the cold or my close proximity to so much beer which has clouded my better judgment."

At that statement, Sam's mouth quirked into a smile. It was, she realized, pretty much impossible to stay mad at Jack for more than fifteen seconds – especially when he turned on the charm. "Apology accepted," she replied after a moment. "But if you ever make a comment like that again, I'll be forced to challenge you to a little one-on-one at the shooting range."

Jack rolled his eyes. She never let him forget that she was the better shot. "Well, Major, since I'm sure my ego wouldn't be able to stand such a beating, I'll try to watch my mouth from now on."

From behind them, Daniel cleared his throat. "Not that this isn't entertaining and all, but I'd like to get to the museum before the universe blows up."

All three of Daniel's teammates regarded him darkly. No one particularly liked being reminded of the grim peril they were continually embroiled in. Still, his words had the desired effect. Within moments, the team was once again trudging into the bitterly cold wind.

A few blocks up the road, a tall building with a white marble façade came into view. Four bronze birds seemed to take flight in front of the snowy stone background, flanked by a similarly-sculpted primitive man. All in all, the stately building stood out amongst the fairly utilitarian architecture which surrounded it.

"I guess this is it," Jack said as they approached the structure.

Daniel nodded. "I called Gerald when we touched down. He's expecting us." With a smile, he pushed the plate-glass door open and held it while his teammates entered the vestibule. "Apparently, they're even going to waive our admission fee."

"Gee, how considerate," Jack replied sarcastically. "I still say we should have just sent the marines in."

Sam raised an eyebrow as she walked past him. "I'm not sure why you're complaining, sir. After all, weren't you just praising the beer and ice-fishing here?"

He leveled a wry smile in her direction. "Yes, but you'll notice that I'm neither drinking beer nor going ice-fishing. Instead, I'm walking into a museum in search of a musty piece of pottery."

Considering his words, Sam nodded. "I suppose that makes sense." _In a Jack O'Neill kind of way, at any rate._

Daniel had long since left his companions and walked to the information desk. After speaking to the woman seated there, he returned with a small, glossy map and four museum tickets. "We need to go to the _Temples, Tells, and Tombs_ exhibit. Second floor, southwest corner," he explained, pointing to a nearby escalator. "Gerald will be waiting for us near the Tell Hadidi mini-theater."

Without ceremony, the four colleagues got in line behind a raucous group of school children, handed their admission tickets to the attendant, and made their way toward the escalator. In spite of her best attempts to keep her eyes off her CO, Sam noticed the simultaneous softening and tension that Jack automatically exhibited in the presence of children. It was heartbreaking, knowing that he was still so deeply affected by his son's death. Wishing she could reach out to him, but knowing such an action was impossible, Sam sighed inwardly and tried focusing on something less emotional.

She turned her attention to the museum around her. The main concourse was impressive, consisting of a wide, marble-tiled hallway lined on one side with the gift shop and café. At one end, an impressive curving staircase led up to the main exhibit level.

Glancing almost reflexively toward Jack again, Sam was surprised to see his face set in an amused smirk. As if he felt her attention being directed toward him, his sparkling brown eyes met hers.

"Sir?" she asked, clearly curious what he found so amusing.

Nodding his head toward the front of their little party, he replied dryly. "Daniel in his natural habitat."

Sam looked at the archaeologist for a moment and felt her own face break into a smile. Daniel was holding the glossy exhibit map in front of Teal'c as they walked, clearly pointing out several locations of interest. In spite of Teal'c's ever-stoic demeanor, Daniel's face was animated and alight with excitement. Looking back at her CO, she shared a grin with him. "Like a kid on Christmas morning," she agreed.

Jack glanced around, taking in the museum. From the staircase, he could see signs pointing out nearby exhibits. "I wonder if there's a section on beer," he mumbled idly.

Sam chuckled. "Well, sir, it _is_ Milwaukee. Anything's possible."

At the second floor landing, Sam followed Daniel toward the exhibit where his friend was waiting. Within a few minutes, the small, informal hollow which acted as a mini-theater came into view.

A portly, balding man of middle years waved from the entrance. "Daniel! Good to see you again!"

Stepping forward, Daniel shook the man's hand enthusiastically. "Gerald, I can't say how much I appreciate your help today. It was good of you to see us on such short notice."

The older man shrugged. "No problem. Though I will admit to being curious about how I can help you. There's not much of interest here in our little corner of the Midwest."

Daniel smiled. "Actually, there's a particular artifact I was hoping to get a closer look at." Pulling the digital photograph from his pocket, Daniel unfolded it and handed it to his friend. "Any chance of that happening?"

Gerald examined the picture for a moment, looking surprised and a bit dismayed. "Well, I've got good news and bad news for you."

Jack exchanged a dark look with Sam. Clearly, this wasn't what he wanted to hear.

Also looking vaguely nervous, Daniel prompted his friend to continue. "The bad news?"

Gerald sighed. "I'm not sure if you know this or not, but the Milwaukee Public Museum has had some money problems recently."

Daniel nodded. "I'd heard there were some financial management issues." There was a question in his voice, indicating he'd welcome further clarification.

Hearing the unspoken request, Gerald continued. "In an effort to maintain current operations, the museum board decided to sell several minor pieces which were considered unimportant."

Jack groaned. "Let me guess. That vase was one of the pieces on the auction block."

Gerald nodded. "Yes, it was. But, remember, I did promise good news, too."

Daniel appeared skeptical. "Gerald, even if you have a similar piece, I'm afraid it won't help us. We really need to see _that_ urn."

Waving his hand, Gerald seemed to brush Daniel's concerns aside. "I don't think that will be a problem, but you'll have to keep this next bit of information off-the-record. It just so happens that I know the identity of the private party who purchased the urn. Such transactions are supposed to be confidential, but in this case, it's not a very well-kept secret. You see, one of the grad students who works here comes from a fairly wealthy family. He inherited his father's interest for ancient artifacts and decided to pursue archaeology as a career. Anyway, his father learned of the sale and actually purchased the urn not more than three months ago." Gerald smiled pleasantly. "Caleb and his family live here in Milwaukee. He's due in at the Museum in just under an hour. If you can wait for him, I'm sure he'd be willing to show you the artifact."

The whole party seemed to inwardly sigh with relief. "I'm sure we can kill some time until he arrives," Daniel replied. Then, looking at the exhibits around him, his eyes lit up with delight. "Hey, maybe you can show my friends some of what you do here."

Jack winced. "Ah, gee, Daniel. I'm sure that would be fascinating, but Carter really wanted to see the living butterfly exhibit downstairs."

Sam blinked. She did? Then, seeing the look of desperation in her CO's eyes, she suddenly understood. Jack would rather eat rusty nails than be stuck listening to _two_ archaeologists prattle on about ancient Egypt. "Uh, right," she agreed quickly. "I've got this thing about insects," she confided to Gerald, who seemed a bit startled by Jack's proclamation.

Daniel didn't seem fazed. "Oh, okay. Well, if you guys don't mind, I'm going to stick here with Gerald. I'd like to see some of his work up close."

Jack was already pulling Sam away. "No problem," he said quickly. Then, looking at the fourth member of the team, he raised his eyebrows. "Teal'c? Butterflies?"

The large Jaffa inclined his head. "I think I would prefer to explore this exhibit. Ancient temples are of great interest to me."

Jack shrugged. "Suit yourself," he said quickly. Then, before anyone could change their minds, Jack led a rather startled Sam back down the staircase at a remarkable clip.

Once they were down on the first floor, Jack let out an exaggerated sigh of relief. "Oh, thank god we got out of there," he muttered.

Sam chuckled. "For once, I totally agree. How Teal'c could want to spend time talking about ancient temples is beyond me." She made a face. "I think we get enough of that on a daily basis."

Jack nodded. "I, for one, have had enough of old, musty artifacts for _five_ lifetimes." Suddenly, he paused, looking around. "All right, we've escaped. Where to now?"

Feeling a blush rise into her cheeks, Sam looked sheepishly toward a nearby sign. "Actually, sir, I really _would_ like to see the butterflies, if you don't mind."

Jack's amused brown eyes zeroed in on hers with a twinkle. "So, you really _do_ have a thing for bugs?"

Sam smiled, feeling her cheeks warm further. "I know, it's kind-of girly. But I've always wanted to see one of these living butterfly exhibits up close."

Gesturing toward the "PUELICHER BUTTERFLY WING" sign, Jack just smiled. "Then, by all means, lead the way."

Feeling her heart flutter at the playful smile on his face, Sam forced herself to think about the butterflies up ahead and _not_ about how nice it was to spend a few precious moments with him outside their normal work setting. Technically, she supposed they were still on official business. But it certainly didn't feel that way.

As they approached the butterfly wing, Sam felt her eyes widen in spite of herself. "Wow," she said softly. "That's a pretty neat setup." A two-story, glass-enclosed garden lay at the end of a long concourse. The door to the exhibit was contained in an airlock of sorts, allowing museum attendants to inspect all exiting visitors for fluttery passengers. The outer door would not open unless the inner door was shut, keeping the insects safely contained in the garden.

Jack observed the look of wonder on Sam's face with a small smile. It amazed him that she could be so awestruck by something this mundane, considering all they encountered in the line of duty. Following her lead, he deposited his coat in a numbered locker outside the exhibit and then followed her to the entranceway. Once the outer door opened, they stepped into the airlock and waited for it to close. Feeling the warm humidity on his face, Jack raised his eyebrows. "Pretty warm in here," he commented.

Sam nodded absently, focused on the inner door leading to the exhibit. "Butterflies migrate to warm climates in the winter. They thrive in humid, tropical environments."

With a wry smile, Jack shook his head. "Never thought I'd be using the words 'humid' and 'tropical' to describe my trip to Milwaukee in February."

Darting a glance at him, Sam couldn't help smiling. She was so caught up in the moment that she almost didn't notice one of the attendants opening the inner door. _Focus, Sam._ Tearing her gaze away from him, she stepped into the garden.

Immediately, her eyes grew wide with wonder and delight. The soothing sounds of a nearby waterfall complimented the warm, moist air in the room. Sunlight shone down through living vegetation, glinting off the iridescent wings of countless fluttering butterflies. It was breathtaking.

Jack's eyes were similarly glued to the breathtaking view before him, but his attention was not focused on the insects. He knew it was dangerous territory, but he couldn't quite pull his gaze from the rapt enchantment shining in his companion's face. When a large, blue-winged butterfly gently landed in her hair, a delighted giggle escaped from her lips. Unconsciously, she turned to him with a look of pure enjoyment.

"I think he likes me," she said with a chuckle, pointing to the elegant creature on the edge of her vision.

Jack's face softened. Stepping forward, he gently lifted his hand and brushed his fingers along her forehead. For a moment, Sam forgot to breathe. Then, as the butterfly crawled onto his index finger, she realized he was merely removing it from her hair. Disappointment never had a chance to materialize, however, as his razor-sharp, dark eyes immediately zeroed in on hers.

Sam swallowed. "Did you get him?" she asked, somewhat breathlessly.

Jack nodded, slowly lowering his hand to eye level. The shimmering, blue wings of the delicate insect almost exactly matched the hue of Sam's eyes.

The tension between them seemed to grow exponentially as they stood, locked in silent communication. Sam hardly noticed when the butterfly gently took to the air once again. Now free of its passenger, Jack's hand brushed her cheek almost imperceptibly as he brought it back to his side. "This is much better than an archaeology lesson." Jack's voice was a soft rumble, blending in with the soothing atmosphere around them.

Sam flushed, feeling breathless and giddy. "Not too girly?"

He smiled. "If I remind myself that they're bugs, I'm okay."

The familiar, dry humor finally seemed to lessen the tension between them. Inhaling somewhat shakily, Sam forced herself to turn back to the garden and seek out other insects. "Don't worry, I won't tell anyone back on base that you like butterflies," she remarked over her shoulder.

Jack rolled his eyes. "Thanks, Carter."

They wandered through the exhibit, chatting idly and observing the hundreds of different insects which fluttered around. Sam was filled with contentment, unable to believe that such a dreaded afternoon could turn out so pleasantly.

When they finally stepped into the airlock which would take them back to the rest of the museum, it was a bit like leaving a happy dream behind. Impulsively, Sam turned to her companion and smiled. "Thanks for humoring me," she said softly. "I really enjoyed that."

Jack returned her smile, but his eyes were unreadable. Something deep seemed to be lurking in their depths, just out of sight. "My pleasure," he said, clearly sounding as though he meant the words.

Stepping out of the airlock, they set about retrieving their coats. Then, examining the other exhibit signs, Jack stopped thoughtfully. "We probably have time for one more stop," he said. "What next?"

Sam's eyes flitted over their choices. "How about 'The Streets of Old Milwaukee?'" She smiled. "If there's going to be a beer section, I'm betting it'll be there."

Jack's mouth twitched. It never failed to impress him how Carter just _got_ his sense of humor. He knew his dry, gruff personality was often lost on others – especially brainy, academic types. In spite of that, the brainiest person he knew was also the one who understood him best. The contradiction was intriguing – almost as intriguing as the woman who was behind it.

Stepping across the well-lit exhibit space, Jack was surprised by the entrance to the Old Milwaukee exhibit. A darkened corridor led away from the bustling center concourse to a wrought-iron archway. One quick turn and they were suddenly plunged into a whole different world.

Sam's delighted laugh sparkled down the cobblestone street before them. The pitch black of a night-time sky seemed to stretch limitlessly above them. Ahead, a long line of two-story, period-authentic homes and storefronts were warmly lit from within. The gaslit lane was dotted with trees and store signs – and even a fire hydrant or two. Wood-plank sidewalks led directly to the porches and front windows of the buildings, allowing visitors to peer into homes and businesses of a century ago. "This is amazing," she remarked, enchanted by the cozy atmosphere in the exhibit.

Jack, usually a hardened cynic, had to admit that the scene was remarkable. "You almost forget you're inside a museum," he said, running his hand along a realistic-looking tree trunk.

"You almost forget you're in the twenty-first century," Sam replied in quiet awe. Wandering down the lane, she couldn't help smiling foolishly at the illusion surrounding her. Suddenly, she laughed as one of the signs ahead caught her eye. Unthinkingly, she grabbed Jack's hand and tugged him to a large, plate-glass window up the road.

Jack's lips curled into a grin. Displayed on the other side of the glass was a tavern straight from the late 1800's. A jolly-looking bartender stood motionless behind the mahogany bar, polishing a glass mug. "Guess we found the beer section," he said dryly.

Sam laughed. She was about to reply when something remarkable happened, knocking the words completely out of her head. In her rush to show him the tavern, Sam had completely forgotten she was holding Jack's hand. She might have even pulled away, oblivious of the connection, except for the unexpected event which occurred next.

Tenderly, almost intimately, Jack's fingers gently squeezed her own, silently communicating a thousand different emotions with the warm, calloused hand she'd come to know so well over the last seven years. None of the messages being transmitted through the affectionate touch were appropriate for an official work day, which made Sam's heart stop momentarily before slamming back to life in triple-time.

Aware of how flabbergasted she must appear, Sam was nonetheless unable to stop herself from staring helplessly into his warm, brown eyes. She had no idea what to say.

Apparently, words weren't necessary. And in contrast to her nervous astonishment, Jack's own expression was a study of quiet, confident intensity. As his eyes bored into hers, he seemed to soothe the jumpy edge from her emotions. Standing under a great oak tree in a dimly-lit street, something magical started to happen between the pair. It was as if a giant magnet was suddenly pulling them together.

Sam felt her heart slam into her throat. _Holy Hannah,_ _he's going to kiss me_. The shocking thought skittered into her consciousness, pulling her eyes to the sculpted form of his mouth.

Jack followed her gaze with an out-of-body sense of surrealism. As his mind registered her attentions, he felt an arrow of heat shoot through his bloodstream. Why the hell _shouldn't_ he kiss her?

Hearts pounding in unison, the two inched closer to each other.

"Sam! Jack! Over here!"

Daniel's voice sliced through the tense atmosphere, breaking the spell immediately. Exhaling sharply, Jack took a half-step back, trying to clear his head.

Sam pasted a wooden smile on her face as she turned to see Teal'c and Daniel approaching with a third, unfamiliar young man in tow. Completely oblivious to the monumental scene he'd just interrupted, Daniel held a hand up in greeting.

"Hey guys. This is Caleb Stevenson. He's the grad student Gerald told us about." Then, turning to the young man, Daniel gestured toward his friends. "This is Colonel Jack O'Neill and Major Samantha Carter."

The student smiled warmly. "Nice to meet you," he said automatically. Then, picking up on what Daniel had missed, he glanced nervously between the two military officers. Quickly, he rushed to explain their presence. "When Dr. Jackson said you guys would be wandering the museum, I thought we should check here. It's a pretty popular exhibit."

Jack didn't bother to keep the wry edge from his voice. "Yeah, well, you found us."

Caleb winced apologetically. "Do you like the museum?" he asked, trying to bring the conversation into neutral territory.

Sam nodded immediately. Her wits were quickly returning to her. "We went to the butterfly wing first. It's really amazing."

Caleb smiled. "Yeah, we're pretty proud of it. Not exactly an archaeological wonder, but it definitely draws a crowd."

At that, Daniel seemed to jump slightly, as if remembering something. Turning to Sam and Jack, he spoke with a broad smile. "Caleb is going to set up a meeting between his dad and I tomorrow. He thinks it will be no problem for us to research the artifact."

Jack's face relaxed noticeably. "That's good news," he said, regarding the young man intently.

Caleb seemed to straighten. "And don't worry. Daniel has already told me this is a classified government investigation. We won't ask why you're interested in the piece."

Jack glanced at Daniel questioningly. The archaeologist responded with a slightly embarrassed shrug. Apparently, throwing some military weight around _did_ have its advantages. Returning his attention to the grad student, Jack gave the young man his best 'commanding officer' look. "I'm glad to know you can be discreet about this," he said solemnly.

Sam bit her lip. Caleb looked as though he was bursting at the seams to be working on a secret government project. And Jack's 'Air Force Colonel' persona was so perfectly enacted, Sam had a hard time keeping herself from laughing out loud.

"Anyway," Daniel said, clearly eager to change the subject, "Caleb has asked us to go out for a drink tonight. Since we'll be in town with nothing else to do, I thought it might be fun."

Jack seemed to consider the idea seriously. "Hmmm. Beer in Milwaukee." Looking back at the young man, he suddenly relaxed his military stance. "All right, I'm in."

Caleb grinned. "Great. Dr. Jackson tells me you're staying at the Hyatt?"

Glancing at Sam for confirmation, Jack saw her nod silently. In truth, he'd had no idea where they were staying. "That's right," he said to Caleb, sounding as though this was not news to him.

The grad student didn't seem to notice the silent exchange. "Then I'll pick you guys up there tonight around eight. There's this great bar where my friends and I usually hang out, but parking is pretty crazy, so it'll be best if I drive. It's a lot of fun, though – I'm sure you'll love it."

Jack's mouth lifted on one side. "If there's beer there, I'm sure you're right."


	3. Closing Time

Chapter Three

Stepping into the smoky confines of the bar, Sam was amazed by the sight before her. As they'd approached the entrance to the tavern, she'd had her doubts about agreeing to come here tonight. The tiny, cramped streets were crammed with cars on both sides, making parking a nightmare. Instead of the bustling club scene she'd been expecting, Sam was faced with a mainly residential neighborhood in a blue-collar section of the city. Caleb had assured them that there really was a bar at the end of their five-block hike, but Sam hadn't entirely believed him until she'd stepped into the very unremarkable building.

Inside, a different world seemed to erupt in glorious, high-energy chaos. The smoke-filled room was practically bursting at the seams with people – mostly college students, by the looks of it. Loud, boisterous music blared from a jukebox in the corner, but was almost drowned out by the cacophony of a few hundred noisy conversations. The bar itself was almost impossible to see behind the teeming throng of revelers.

Caleb smiled and practically shouted to be heard over the noise. "My girlfriend works here. She always saves us a corner in the quiet corner of the room. It'll be easier to talk there, away from the jukebox."

Daniel nodded and gestured for the young man to lead the way. Thankfully, once they'd pushed their way across the crowded space, the noise did diminish noticeably and normal conversation could resume.

A few people tossed envious looks their way as the four of them crossed to a table where a few of Caleb's friends had saved them a seat. Space was at a premium here, and bar stools were reserved for those who'd arrived early.

Caleb introduced his friends and was about to brave the crowd to order drinks, when Jack held up his hand to stop him. "I'll get the first round," he said gamely. "After all, you're going to be helping us out tremendously tomorrow."

Caleb smiled. "Hey, thanks, man. Just stand down at this end of the bar and talk to the redhead – that's my girlfriend, Emma. She'll make sure you don't have to wait in line again. These crowds are crazy on Friday nights."

Daniel pulled off his coat and hung it over the back of his stool. "I'll help you," he said to Jack. "There's no way you're going to carry all those drinks by yourself."

Sam, who had already removed her parka, gestured for Daniel to sit. "I'll do it," she insisted. "You stay and talk shop with Caleb. I'm sure he'd like some advice on how to write grants or something." Sam's smile was warm, but the meaning behind her words was clear. They needed Caleb to be on friendly terms with the team if they hoped to work out a deal to see his father's artifact. Daniel's similar interests with the student were probably the best way to make that happen.

Understanding Sam's unspoken advice, Daniel nodded and took a seat beside the grad student. In a few moments, Sam and Jack were pushing their way across the room toward the crowded bar.

Once the pair were out of earshot, Caleb grinned and shook his head. "Man, I felt like a total ass earlier today," he said to Daniel, a knowing look in his eyes.

The archaeologist looked confused. "Why?" he asked, unable to pinpoint what the other man was talking about.

Caleb waved his hand. "You know, in the Streets of Old Milwaukee exhibit."

Daniel blinked. "What about it?"

The student looked at him incredulously. "Dude, we totally interrupted a tender moment between those two."

Laughing, Daniel shook his head. "I don't think so. They work together really closely, but military protocol makes their relationship strictly professional."

Caleb shook his head. "I don't know, man. From where I stood, it looked like they were inches away from locking lips when you interrupted." He winced. "And the look Colonel Jack gave me was more 'strictly murderous' than 'strictly professional' after we walked up to them."

Eyes widening, Daniel looked at Teal'c uncertainly. "Did you notice anything odd?"

Teal'c's sage expression spoke volumes. "I would agree with our young friend, Daniel Jackson. It did appear that an intimate moment was occurring between O'Neill and Major Carter when we approached."

Daniel winced. "Oh, crap," he muttered. "If you're right, Jack might not-so-accidentally shoot me on our next mission."

Caleb laughed at Daniel's comment. He had no idea that the archaeologist was only half-kidding.

When Sam and Jack finally returned with drinks, conversation had moved onto safer ground. Caleb's other friends were vastly entertained by Daniel's (highly-edited) stories of some of the team's past missions. Of course, all references to other planets were left out, and the team was often portrayed as pursuing 'ancient artifacts' instead of 'alien technology.' Goa'uld were transformed into smugglers, and alien landscapes were turned into remote Earth locations. But there was enough truth in the stories to provide an element of authenticity to them, particularly when Jack or Sam would chime in with laughter and supporting details.

Many drinks later, Caleb found himself smiling at his four new friends. "Wow, you guys have been through some serious bonding experiences together. You must be like family to each other by now, hey?"

A half-smile twitched onto Jack's chiseled features. "All the family I have," he replied quietly. Then, shaking off the somber mood, he lifted his dwindling glass of beer. "Looks like I need a refill," he said lightly. "Carter!"

Sam snapped to attention reflexively. "Sir?"

He grinned. "Think you can help me deliver another round?"

Rolling her eyes, she saluted. "Yes, sir." Then, turning to the others, she sighed loudly. "He can't do anything by himself."

"Better watch it, Carter," Jack quipped as he tugged her toward the bar, "or I'll make you eat Daniel's cooking on the next mission."

Shuddering, Sam allowed herself to be pulled away from their table, clutching the nearly-empty whiskey-sour she'd been sipping. As they elbowed their way to the bar, Sam downed the last of her drink with a flourish.

Jack observed her actions with a knowing smirk. "Having a good time here in Milwaukee?" he asked mildly.

Setting her now-empty rock glass down on the bar, Sam smiled faintly as the syrupy warmth of intoxication slithered into her bloodstream. "I am," she replied, relishing the freedom that the evening had afforded her. "You know," she said, turning to glimpse the ruggedly familiar features of the man beside her, "I think I'm a little tipsy."

Taking in her delightfully flushed cheeks and dilated pupils, Jack couldn't quite suppress an amused smile. "I'd say that's a pretty fair assessment." Her warm, somewhat unfocused expression was a 180-degree turnaround from her usual razor-sharp intensity.

Sensing his examination, Sam found herself slightly uncomfortable. "What is it?"

Jack's face was the picture of innocence. "What is what?"

She fixed him with a no-nonsense gaze. "You were looking at me strangely just now."

Shrugging, Jack decided no harm could come from telling the truth. "I'm just not used to seeing this side of you. It's kinda nice to see our straight-laced, by-the-book Major-Doctor Samantha Carter let her hair down a little."

Sam seemed to digest his words for a moment before responding. When she did, her words totally took him by surprise. "Actually, I can't _really_ let my hair down," she said, gesturing to her fashionably short locks. "The whole 'military' thing always made me keep it short. Easier to deal with in the field," she explained off-handedly. "And I never really thought about it until I ran into my – uh – _twin_." Sam's somewhat clouded judgment was still active enough to keep her from speaking of the 'alternate reality' version of herself outright in a public place. By the flicker of understanding in her CO's eyes, she could see he'd picked up on her reference. "Anyway, since she wasn't military, I guess she chose to wear her hair long. It was sort-of startling, really – seeing my face with someone else's hair."

Jack nodded mutely, completely baffled as to what his response should be. Luckily, her rambling monologue didn't seem to require any verbal feedback.

"I'm not even sure why she'd choose to wear her hair long. Was it a personal decision? Or was she wearing it that way because-" she broke off suddenly, seeming to change her mind about her next statement. Blinking, she flushed slightly before picking up her earlier train of thought. "Anyway, I just wonder sometimes if _I_ would have worn long hair if I'd decided to remain a civilian." She reached up and brushed the short, blond wisps at the base of her neck. "Some people think long hair is more feminine on a woman." Turning her large, soulful eyes to her mute companion, she seemed very concerned with her next question. "What do you think?"

Caught in the vulnerable, blue-eyed gaze she was sending him, Jack suddenly found himself unable to put together a coherent thought. "What? No," he stumbled lamely. "Don't be silly. Your hair is just fine." With those words, a disappointed, somewhat-stricken cast came over her features, making him feel like a complete heel. "I mean, your hair is really nice. Great, even." His awkward postscript sounded pathetic even to his own ears. Exhaling sharply, he realized he'd navigated mine fields less treacherous than this conversation. Setting his own drink down somewhat impatiently, he waited until she looked him in the eye before continuing. "Carter, listen to me. I'm clearly not going to win any prizes for my stellar delivery of compliments. But, I'm pretty sure you'd be beautiful whether you grew your hair to your knees or shaved it completely off." He paused for a moment at the picture he'd just painted. "Though I wouldn't recommend the latter if you're going for feminine."

Ignoring his dry humor altogether, Sam's eyes widened slightly. "You think I'm beautiful?" The question slipped past her mouth before her slightly-addled brain could stop it.

Sensing the nerves exposed by her question, Jack responded with quiet sincerity. "Of course I think you're beautiful." His mouth quirked up dryly as he continued. "Carter, almost everyone we know thinks you're beautiful – and the 'almost' is only there because the Asgard have rather weird aesthetic tastes."

Smiling self-consciously, Sam shook her head and looked at her shoes. "I was never 'the pretty one,' you know." Slowly, she forced herself to look back into his dark, steady gaze. When she did, the trust reflected in her expression was slightly unnerving. "I was always 'the smart one,'" she said softly.

Knowing he was treading into dangerous waters, Jack was nevertheless unable to turn away from the naked vulnerability in her eyes. "Seems to me, you're both." The husky quality of his voice was unintended, but further underscored the honesty of his words.

As tension sizzled across the smoky air between them, a nearby, loud, and rather inebriated voice broke into their silent communication.

"_Hey!_ It's after midnight! Give your valentine a kiss!"

As the boisterous words filtered into Sam's alcohol-clouded brain, she couldn't help imagining for one, forbidden moment, what taking that particular piece of advice might mean. Earlier in the day, she actually thought such a fantasy might come true. Of course, she'd since realized that the whole episode had been a figment of her imagination. Jack O'Neill would never lose control of his military instincts in a public place – especially not when the only temptation was, well, _her_. She and her CO might share a close friendship, but she knew that kissing was not part of his plan for her.

Even if it was Valentine's day.

Closing her eyes, Sam tried to force reckless thoughts of kissing him from her head before they showed up on her face.

Unfortunately, her dulled reflexes weren't quite fast enough. Jack watched her wide, hazy blue eyes skitter electrically over his mouth with an expression of sheer longing. Inhaling sharply, he felt a shot of adrenaline explode through his bloodstream. Closing his eyes against the wild torrent of emotions her unguarded response had released, he tried to gain some control of the situation. He'd almost given in to his crazy urges earlier in the day. And now that his sobriety was at less than one-hundred percent, he had serious doubts about his ability to resist her. When he looked back into her unfocused expression, he forced himself to verbalize his concerns. "Not a good idea, Sam."

_Oh hell._ Sam swallowed, wondering how he seemed to be able to read her mind so easily. Still, after a moment's consideration, she didn't bother denying what they were both thinking. Instead, emboldened by the alcohol, she simply allowed herself to say exactly what was on her mind. "Don't you ever get tired of following the rules?" she asked, sounding almost desperate. "Sometimes, I think about how good it would feel to just let go and do what felt right."

Jack's heart was hammering in his chest. Her words hit far too close to his own thoughts for him to deny them outright. But the line they were currently treading was a dangerous one – and he had no idea if he could hold back his own torrent of unrestrained longing for very long, much less the sheer force of his _and_ hers. "We both know what's at stake here."

Her eyes sobered at that statement, but after a brief moment of doubt, the determined glint returned to them. "What I know, _Jack_," she said, stressing the use of his first name, "is that we're less than an hour away from closing a bar that nobody at the SGC has ever heard of, much less visited. And I'm also pretty sure that the only people in this bar aware of the UCMJ's fraternization regulations are going to keep their mouths shut if two lonely officers share a simple Valentine's day kiss." The logic in her argument was sound, and was backed by the resolve which with it had been delivered.

Jack took a deep breath and opened his mouth to gently decline her offer, when it suddenly struck him what he was about to do.

Was he _crazy?_

In her somewhat-tipsy state, Sam had managed to grasp a golden opportunity – one he would have entirely ignored out of sheer, stubborn habit. In a bright moment of piercing clarity, he realized she was absolutely right. Tomorrow might bring them right back to square one, but only a fool passed up the opportunity to seize the prospect of sheer bliss while it could be had.

And Jack O'Neill was certainly no fool. At least, he wasn't tonight.

Before Sam could even begin to process what was happening, Jack's eyes darkened as his mouth swooped down to claim hers in a fiercely possessive embrace. Within the space of a heartbeat, passion fueled by years of repressed hunger erupted with unrestrained fury. As if of their own accord, Jack's hands reached up to gently cradle Sam's face, tenderly caressing the delicate skin of her jaw and cheekbones. In response, Sam's own arms snaked around his waist, reveling in the feel of him so close to her.

Across the bar, Caleb was avidly describing a recent dig proposal he'd been working on, when the young grad student suddenly stopped mid-sentence, grinning knowingly. "Hey, looks like I was right about your two friends after all," he said cheerfully, pointing toward the bar.

Daniel was about to ask for clarification, when he followed Caleb's gesture with his eyes and stopped dead in his tracks, jaw falling slack in utter shock.

Teal'c, crammed against the table by the press of people around him, was unable to see what the other men were looking at. "Daniel Jackson, is everything all right?" His voice held an unmistakable note of concern.

Still dazed, Daniel nodded numbly. "Yeah. It's just…" he trailed off, unable to believe what he was about to say. Tearing his eyes from the scene unfolding across the room, he looked at his friend with an expression of astonishment. "Sam and Jack are making out over there."

Teal'c's eyebrows shot upward. Suddenly not caring who he jostled, the large man pushed away from the table, ignoring the grumbled protests in his wake. When he was finally able to peer across the smoke-filled room, his eyes registered the same stunned disbelief reflected in Daniel's. Slowly, however, a deliberate half-smile crept onto the Jaffa's features. When he next spoke, his words were profound.

"It would appear we've all found what we were looking for on this trip."

* * *

Sam's head was swimming. The combined effects of a few whiskey-sours and one Colonel Jack O'Neill were enough to send her senses into overdrive. The feel of his warm, moist lips gliding eagerly over her own was exquisite. Seven years of restrained passion suddenly erupted in a blaze of explosive heat. Somewhere in the background, Sam was dimly aware of nearby patrons catcalling and whistling over their very public display of affection. In spite of her usually-reserved nature, she found she didn't care in the slightest.

To her dismay, she felt Jack's mouth slowly pulling away. Uncertainly, her eyelids fluttered open.

A pair of familiar, intensely dark eyes regarded her with enough heat to blister the paint from the walls. Moments ticked past as the pair stood millimeters apart, gazing silently into each other's eyes. Finally, with a slow, deliberate motion, Jack ran his thumb over her slightly-swollen lower lip.

Sam shivered reflexively. Her heart was pounding at an astonishing rate as a torrent of raw emotions tore through her. Could this really be happening? Or was this some kind of dream?

Well, she reasoned, real or not, she was going to hold onto the moment for as long as possible. Reaching up, she captured his hand in hers before leaning in for another sweltering kiss.

Jack's head was also quickly spinning out of control. He'd always known that holding the woman before him would be dangerous – but he'd never really understood _how_ dangerous until this very moment. He found himself utterly unable to resist her sweet, passionate kisses. And, though he knew he was standing in the middle of a very public place, he discovered he didn't really care who was watching their intimate exchange. The feel of her mouth on his had suddenly become as urgent a need for him as breathing.

Somewhere in the back of his mind, it occurred to him that Daniel and Teal'c were probably taking in the actions of their colleagues with slack-jawed shock. But that knowledge did absolutely nothing to curb his enthusiasm for the feel of Sam in his arms. He'd waited too damn long for this moment. He wasn't about to let go of her until he absolutely had to. And by his calculations, he had at least another thirty minutes before the bar would be closing.

It was going to be a delightfully pleasant half-hour.

* * *

Daniel blinked in astonishment as he stared across the hazy room. Caleb had long since gone and fetched their drinks, since it was obvious Sam and Jack were not going to be doing so.

Across the table, the young man grinned knowingly. "You're really blown away by that, aren't you?" he asked, gesturing toward the still-lip-locked pair now wedged in the corner where the bar met the wall.

Nodding, Daniel exchanged yet another dumbfounded look with Teal'c. The large warrior seemed to have accepted the turn of events with his usual unshakable composure. Daniel, however, found himself unable to duplicate his colleague's calm demeanor. Seeing his two dearest friends finally giving into their long-restrained feelings was both welcome and jarring. After so many years of watching the pair dance around their emotions, it was almost unbelievable to think they might finally come to some sort of resolution.

Caleb took another sip of his beer. "So, this is totally unexpected?" he asked bluntly.

Daniel shook his head, as if to clear the cobwebs lingering there. "What?" he asked, trying to focus on the younger man's words.

"Your friends," Caleb replied. "You weren't expecting this?"

Daniel exhaled slowly. "Well, I'm not sure I'd say that." He smiled in Teal'c's direction. "We've actually been expecting this for the last seven years. I guess I'm just surprised that it's finally happening here." He blinked. "At a bar. In Milwaukee."

Caleb laughed. "Well, it _is_ Valentine's day," he pointed out cheerfully. "And with our particular brand of evil cold happening outside, what else are you going to do to stay warm?"

Teal'c's eyebrow shot up. "Then, perhaps the Wisconsin winter is not as unpleasant as it may seem."

Daniel laughed in spite of himself. Then, with another jolt of surprise, he made a second realization. Not only were Sam and Jack playing tonsil-hockey in one corner of the room, but now Teal'c had made a joke. Suddenly, the possibility of the universe coming to an end seemed closer than it had half-an-hour ago.

And it hadn't been all that far off to start with.

* * *

"_Last call!"_

The bartender's forceful announcement sliced unpleasantly through Sam's fuzzy, muddled brain. The last thirty minutes had passed in a dreamlike blend of kisses, heated looks, and tender caresses. She hadn't made out in a public place since college, but her lack of practice hadn't slowed her down in the slightest. She'd enjoyed every minute of these stolen moments, all too aware that they were sadly fleeting.

Reluctantly, Sam pulled away and examined Jack's rugged features carefully. In the last half-hour, she'd tenderly explored every contour of his face with her fingers, eager to memorize every texture, and terrified that she may never get another chance to do so. Now, she found his warm, dark eyes staring knowingly into her own.

Swallowing, Sam tried to think of something she could say at this point. She was fairly certain that tomorrow would bring a return to business as usual, and she was desperate to hold onto these brief moments for as long as she could. Still, in spite of her best efforts to put together something meaningful, she couldn't think of a single comment which didn't sound ridiculous or cliché.

Seeming to understand her sudden loss for words, Jack merely pulled her up against the solid wall of his chest, holding her in a fiercely tender embrace. Sam felt his lips brush the top of her head.

"Sam?" His voice was a low rumble, husky with emotion.

"What?" she asked softly, not able to will herself from his arms.

Inhaling deeply, Jack was overwhelmed by the light, breezy scent of her shampoo. He, too, was drawing a blank on conversation. Instead, he smiled into her hair, squeezed her gently, and said, "Happy Valentine's Day."

Feeling her throat thicken with emotions she dare not explore, Sam hugged him fiercely for one brief moment, then pulled away briskly. Looking into his eyes, she tried to communicate the tangled mess of emotions she was experiencing. "I'm going to hit the restroom before we leave," she rasped. Then, before her sentimental side got the best of her, she turned and practically fled to the ladies' room.

Jack exhaled shakily and ran a hand through his silver hair. There was absolutely no way he was going to be able to digest all that had happened in the last hour – at least not anytime soon – so he instead straightened his spine and turned back to the table where the rest of his friends were still seated.

Daniel saw Jack approaching with a carefully neutral expression carved on his face. Surprised that he was alone, Daniel hoped all was well. Since Caleb and his friends were currently absorbed in a conversation about an upcoming Bucks game, Daniel hoped he could have a few words alone with his friend. When Jack finally reached the table, the archaeologist raised his eyebrows in a silent question.

Jack saw his friend's look and nodded absently toward the restrooms. "She'll be right back," he said quietly. Then, still looking remarkably sharp for someone who'd been pretty much out-of-commission for the better part of an hour, Jack straightened and regarded Daniel intently. "I'm sure it's fairly obvious that Carter's had a little too much to drink tonight."

Daniel couldn't quite restrain a smile at that comment. "You don't say," he replied sarcastically.

Ignoring the barb, Jack pushed ahead, anxious to finish his thought. "When we get back to the hotel, you need to make sure she gets back to her room safely."

Daniel blinked. "Okay," he agreed easily, "but is there some reason you need _me_ to look after her?"

A faint smile flitted over Jack's features. "Because if _I_ walk Sam to her room tonight, I'm fairly certain I'll still be there in the morning."

Coughing on the last sip of his drink, Daniel was taken aback by Jack's blunt assessment. "Ah," he choked out, "I see." Then, as his initial embarrassment wore off, a shrewd look crossed his face. "So, would I be out of line asking why that would be such a bad thing?"

Jack inhaled slowly and looked absently into the distance. "Well, to start with, we've already covered that Sam's had too much to drink. Secondly, there's the whole career fiasco to think about. And, of course, with the fate of the universe hanging in the balance, I figure the timing might be a little off."

Daniel chose his next words carefully. "I suppose it wouldn't do any good to point out that I don't think Sam's sobriety is really an issue here." He smiled. They both knew that it wasn't alcohol which had pushed Carter into her CO's arms that night. Continuing, Daniel felt his confidence rise. "Or that, even if the military thing turned out to be completely insurmountable – which I'm not convinced it is," he added pointedly before continuing, "both of you could continue your present jobs in a purely civilian capacity. After all," he reasoned, "_I'm_ a civilian, and I'm still a member of the team." Then, he smiled humorlessly. "And if you're waiting for the universe to stop teetering on the brink of destruction for the timing to be right, you might as well give up now. In our line of work, there will always be one more reason to postpone our personal lives." Suddenly, his face sobered. "And take it from me, Jack, time is limited."

Ruffling his hair in an act of sheer frustration, Jack digested his friend's words silently for a moment. "I know that, Daniel. But there can't be any regrets," he said simply. "Until I can be sure of that, I need to think more and act less."

Daniel stared at him levelly. "I hope you don't think tomorrow can go back to the status quo," he said simply. "This changes things for her. A _lot_."

Jack snorted inelegantly. "Not just for her, Danny-Boy."

The archaeologist took in the range of emotions flickering across the older man's face. "Just don't hurt her," he said quietly.

Jack's face curled into a bitter smile. He looked Daniel in the eye for a moment, and then spoke levelly. "As soon as Carter's out of the bathroom, we should hike back to the car. It's damn cold outside."

Daniel sighed inwardly. He had a feeling it was going to get colder before it got warmer.

* * *


	4. Headaches

Chapter Four

Nine hours later, Sam pried her gritty eyelids open through sheer force of will. As her throbbing brain slowly gained consciousness, she groaned through clenched teeth against the dull ache in her head. Sitting up, she was about to put one foot on the floor when several realizations struck her at once.

She wasn't at home.

She was badly hung over.

And she'd spent the better part of last night making out in a bar with her commanding officer.

As the monumental weight of these realities came crashing down, Sam found herself frozen in place, one foot halfway out of bed, a hand clutching her forehead, and a rather slack-jawed expression on her face. It might have been comical, were it not for the fact that it changed her life so completely.

With her remembrance of the night before came another unavoidable realization, one which made her queasy as it sank in. She was going to have to walk out of this room in a few brief minutes and pretend that absolutely nothing unusual had occurred. Sobriety painted a very harsh picture of her actions the night before.

Suddenly panicking, Sam had no idea how she could possibly face the rest of her team, much less Jack himself. Swallowing a wave of nausea, she did the first thing that came to mind. Picking up her cell phone, she frantically punched a familiar number and waited.

"Hello?" The friendly voice on the other end of the line was a soothing balm to Sam's frazzled nerves.

"Janet, I did something really stupid." Though she knew she was still suffering the effects of the night before, the gravelly quality of her voice was still somewhat jarring to hear. Wincing at how wretched she sounded, she cleared her throat and continued. "I have no idea how I'm going to live this one down."

Across the country, Janet set down her coffee mug and settled into a chair at her kitchen table. She certainly hadn't been expecting a call from her friend this early in the day, and to say Sam sounded like hell would have been an understatement. Pulling out her best nurturing voice, Janet soothed the other woman as best as she could from a few thousand miles away. "Okay, start from the beginning. What happened? And did you wake up alone this morning?"

Sam heard the smile in Janet's voice and relaxed in spite of herself. "Yes, I woke up alone," she replied dryly. _Thanks to Daniel._ Wincing again, Sam realized that if Jack had been the one to walk her to her door, this morning might look a _whole_ lot different than it did. Shoving the thought from her head, she tried to decide where to start her explanation to Janet. Opening her mouth, she just let her thoughts pour out. "In an effort to escape Daniel's boring archaeology lessons, Jack and I walked around the museum together yesterday, and in the process, shared a few not-very-professional moments."

Janet smiled, picking up her mug of coffee. "That's not so bad," she said soothingly, somewhat amused by Sam's propensity to overreact.

"Yeah, but then we went to a bar and made out for an hour."

Spitting coffee halfway across her kitchen, Janet's eyes widened to the size of saucers. Gasping, she clutched the phone to her ear. "Did you just say that you _made out_ with Colonel O'Neill in a _bar?_"

Sam sighed. "Yes. I made out with my commanding officer in a public place."

Janet struggled to keep her mouth closed as she digested this piece of information. "Were you drunk?" It was the first question which came to mind.

Shrugging, Sam didn't bother denying it. "Fairly tipsy."

"Was he?" Janet's voice still held a note of shocked disbelief.

Considering the question a moment, Sam was startled. "I have no idea," she admitted readily. "He'd had a few beers, but I really wasn't keeping track of exactly how many."

Janet paused. "That's interesting," she said slowly. "Maybe he was sober."

Sam blinked. "I guess it's possible," she agreed, "but I'm not sure it matters at this point."

Finally starting to regain her equilibrium, Janet's natural pragmatism began to re-emerge. "Of course it matters," she said firmly. "Now, tell me why you sound as though the world is ending."

Sam snorted. "Because it _is_," she said wryly. "And I'm not talking about our little mishap on our last mission, either."

Janet shook her head. "Sam, don't you think this might be a _good_ thing?"

Sam's voice registered a note of pure incredulity. "Are you kidding me? Janet, I got drunk and made out with my commanding officer in front of an entire bar full of people, including the other two members of my team! I could be court martialed for what I did!"

Waving a hand dismissively, Janet seemed unconcerned. "If the two of you wanted to make things work between you, I guarantee you could find a way. Maybe this is the first step in that direction.

Sam's jaw dropped. "You're no help at all!" she shrieked. "Janet, what happened last night was a huge mistake. And I somehow have to pull myself together in the next thirty minutes so I can meet them all for breakfast and pretend nothing is wrong!"

Unruffled by her friend's tirade, Janet's voice remained calm. "Sam, honey," she said quietly, "do you _really_ regret what happened?"

About to fire back a quick "yes," Sam suddenly found herself unable to do so. After a moment, she sank back onto the bed and sighed. "No, not really."

Janet smiled. "Then maybe you should be thinking of ways to _keep_ things from going back to the status quo."

Sam opened her mouth to reply, when a knock sounded at her door. Her heart plummeted to her toes as she realized it was probably Daniel, stopping in to make sure she was okay. "Crap," she muttered darkly. "Janet, I think Daniel's at my door. Let me call you back later." Then, without waiting for a reply, she snapped her cell phone shut and padded to her door. Glancing down once to make sure the t-shirt and boxer shorts she'd slept in were decent and presentable, she opened the door and prepared to tell Daniel she was just fine.

The words, however, died in her throat.

It was not Daniel at her door.

It was Jack.

* * *

Jack had been standing at her door for at least five minutes, trying to think of what he might say to her when she answered. Unfortunately, he'd never really been a master of words, especially in uncomfortable situations.

Finally, after discarding a few dozen lame greetings, Jack exhaled sharply and knocked on the door before he had a chance to change his mind. Damned if he'd stand here half the morning. He'd looked like an idiot many times in his life before. Why this should be any different was beyond him.

Before he could second-guess his actions, the door to Sam's room gently swung open. Dressed in an adorably rumpled t-shirt and boxer shorts, his second-in-command appeared in the doorway looking fairly composed.

Until she realized who'd been knocking.

It took Jack less than four milliseconds to recognize the sheer, unadulterated panic which appeared in her wide blue eyes. Instantly, his protective instincts kicked in and he began trying to set her at ease. "Not dressed yet?" he teased, reassuring her with his warm, dark eyes.

Sam's heart had begun rocketing in her chest the moment she'd seen who her late-morning visitor was. Grateful that he seemed to be acting fairly normally, she replied without thought. "I just woke up," she confessed softly. "I think I might have had a little too much to drink last night." Then, realizing the host of _other_ issues her admission stirred up, Sam felt her face grow warm.

Jack's mouth quirked up on one side. "I never would have guessed," he replied dryly. Then, seeing her obvious embarrassment, he reached up and brushed a lock of hair behind her ear without thinking.

As Sam took in his affectionate gesture, her eyes widened in surprise. Surely, he couldn't mean for the events of the previous evening to change anything between them?

Until that moment, Jack had been totally oblivious to how hard going back to "normal" would be. With a sharply exhaled breath, his eyes darkened and his mind churned. For a few seconds, he seemed to digest the enormity of the situation. Then, with a decisive glint in his coffee-brown eyes, he met her gaze head-on. "I think we miscalculated last night," he said bluntly.

Sam's jaw fell open. She'd certainly not been expecting to have this conversation anytime soon, much less in a hotel hallway dressed in her pajamas. "W-what do you mean?" she stammered, trying to get hold of her runaway emotions.

Jack held her gaze steadily. "Last night, we thought no one would have a problem keeping what they saw between us quiet." He paused, watching as her eyes churned with naked emotions. "But I think we forgot about a few people when we made that decision, Sam."

Blinking, she tried to decide who he could possibly be taking about. As far as she knew, there'd been no military personnel in the bar last night, and certainly Daniel and Teal'c would keep their mouths shut. "Who?" she asked breathlessly. "Did you recognize someone at the bar? And if you did, why would you -" She broke off abruptly. Was she _really_ about to ask her commanding officer _why_ he'd kissed her? The conversation was quickly going from strangely uncomfortable to totally surreal.

Jack's eyes twinkled as he watched her face redden further. She was utterly adorable – which was more than a little dangerous to his self-control. Still, he knew she was upset, so he tried to be diplomatic. "Actually, Carter, there were _two_ people there last night who might have a problem with our little, ah, _indiscretion_. Both of them officers."

Sam's jaw dropped. "Two? Two _officers_?" That certainly wasn't good news.

He nodded. "And you know them."

Now Sam's brow wrinkled in confusion. She was certain she hadn't recognized any other military types there last night, much less two officers. Shaking her head, she looked Jack in the eye. "I don't think so," she said uncertainly.

Jack just smiled. "Sam, I'm talking about _us._"

At that moment, Sam's face went totally blank. She understood the _words_ coming from her CO's mouth, but she just couldn't quite wrap her head around their _meaning_. "You think _we're_ going to tell the Air Force about making out in a bar?"

Unable to restrain a grin at her blunt assessment of the situation, Jack tried to keep some sort of somber and concerned attitude about the whole thing. Still, hearing Sam admit to 'making out' in a bar with him was too absurd _not_ to be funny – which simply reinforced his last statement. "Actually, yes."

Sam just blinked. "You think _we_ are going to tell the Air Force about making out in a bar," she repeated slowly. Shaking her head, she looked totally dumbfounded.

Jack took a slow breath, waiting for her complete attention before speaking. "More importantly, Sam, I think we _should_ tell them."

Sam's face was a picture of utter shock. "Are you feeling okay?" she asked disbelievingly.

Suddenly, Jack's face grew serious. "No. Not really. On one hand, I know I have this obligation to enforce and uphold the laws of the country I've sworn to protect. But on the other hand…" His eyes traveled slowly over her face.

Sam swallowed. "On the other hand?" She felt her heart kick into overdrive as his eyes darkened with emotion.

"On the other hand…" Jack sighed softly in resignation before abruptly pulling her into his arms and kissing her soundly.

A tiny whimper escaped Sam's throat as his mouth closed mercilessly over hers. If she'd been confused before, she was now utterly befuddled. However, before her brain had a chance to start analyzing what Jack's actions meant, all rational thought fled under the delightful pressure of his lips.

After a few seconds of mindless bliss, Jack wrestled control from his baser instincts and tore his mouth away, breathing raggedly. The dazed, hungry look in Sam's impossibly large blue eyes just about did him in, so he consciously removed his hands from her arms in an effort to get some distance between them. "You see, Carter?" he said somewhat shakily. "_That_ is why we need to get this out in the open. If we bury this the way we've always done, one of two things is going to happen." His eyes darkened intensely. "Either we're going to end up completely unable to interact on a professional level, or what just happened here in the hallway is going to repeat itself in the middle of the gateroom with Hammond and the whole SGC watching from the sidelines."

Still trying to catch her breath, Sam began processing Jack's words silently. As the picture he'd painted began to develop in her mind's eye, she felt some of the blood drain from her face. Much as she'd like to believe he was exaggerating, she had no doubt that it _was_ a possibility. Exhaling slowly, she met his gaze uncertainly. "How can we possibly explain this?" she asked quietly.

Jack's trademark half-smile appeared on his rugged face. "I'd be willing to bet Hammond has some sort of contingency plan in his desk for this situation."

Sam's eyes widened. "But – you don't think he knows…" she trailed off, unsure of how to finish the statement.

Apparently, Jack had no such issue. "That we've been trying not to maul each other for the last seven years?" He grinned at the shock painted on her features. "Carter, I'd be willing to bet most of the SGC knows that."

Sam was beginning to feel like a fish out of water. "Wait. _You_ knew how I felt about you all this time?"

He shrugged casually, but his sharpened gaze conveyed sheer intensity. "I wouldn't say that," he replied softly. "But even _I'm_ not dumb enough to think that we were just friends and colleagues."

Swallowing, Sam tried to process the enormity of their current conversation. Then, with a resigned shake of her head, she gave up and decided to lob the ball into his court, so to speak. "So what do you think we should do?"

He smiled faintly. "Let's get through this mission. Then I'll see what Daniel and Teal'c think."

Sam nodded, feeling somewhat numb. Suddenly, a thought struck her. Looking deeply into his eyes, she took a deep breath and asked a brutally honest question. "Are you sure you want to do this? I mean, you could be giving up your entire career for… _this_." she gestured helplessly between them, not quite sure how to categorize their ambiguous relationship.

Jack regarded her seriously. "Are you?"

The answer came to her instantly. "Yes," she whispered.

His lips quirked upward. "Then you've got your answer."

* * *

Twenty-four hours later, the four members of SG-1 drove toward the security checkpoint at Cheyenne Mountain's main gate tin a military-owned SUV. As expected, Daniel had charmed Caleb and his father into letting him "borrow" the artifact. With a little luck, there would be something left of it to return when the mission was over. And if not, someone at Area 51 would be doing one hell of a forgery to replace it.

As Jack pulled into the checkpoint, one of the airmen stationed there immediately stepped up and saluted. "Sir, General Hammond wants you to meet him in the conference room as soon as possible. We've just received notice that the President is dropping by at 14:00 hours for an unscheduled visit." The young man seemed understandably nervous as he spoke.

Jack exhaled sharply. With everything else on his mind today, the last thing he needed to think about was an unannounced visit from the President. Still, one didn't really have a choice when it came to these matters. "Got it," he said blandly, not letting any of his own apprehension show.

In the back seat, Sam had stiffened reflexively at the announcement. With a sympathetic look in her direction, Daniel seemed to be offering silent support. He had no idea what had gone on between the two officers during the last day, but he could clearly feel the tension growing. He hoped they'd be able to find some peace with their feelings for each other, but he seriously doubted that they'd do so today.

The edgy, apprehensive atmosphere clung to the team as they descended silently to the base. None of them seemed willing to break the unnatural stillness which had settled over them, nor did any of them have a clue what they might say if they had a mind to do so.

Reaching the conference room, all four of them tensed in unison when they saw General Hammond already seated behind the large, oak table. It took him less than three seconds to pick up on the tension in his flagship team.

"I take it you failed to obtain the artifact?" His voice was grim, but straightforward.

"Ah, actually, General… We did get the urn." Shuffling through the backpack he'd been carrying, Daniel produced the etched, floral-patterned and held it aloft.

A puzzled frown creased the older man's brow. "Then why the long faces?" he asked curiously.

Jack shrugged. "The President's visit has us a bit on-edge, sir." He smiled wryly. "I, for one, never did like performing for an audience."

If Hammond found the explanation unusual, he gave no sign of it. "I understand," he replied, "but he certainly is entitled to drop in and see how things are going around here." The general grimaced. "Especially since we've not had an especially stellar record of late."

Sighing, Jack made a face. "Which is exactly why we're all a bit uptight. Not that the whole 'saving the planet' routine ever gets dull, but it's a lot like making sausage. So long as you like the result, you should _never_ ask what goes into it."

Hammond rolled his eyes at Jack's irreverent sense of humor. "At any rate, this time you're going to have the President watching you. And since he's due to be here very soon, I strongly suggest you get ready to embark immediately." Then, looking at the vase that Daniel was still holding, he seemed to be struck with a thought. "Do you have any idea what that thing does?"

Daniel and Sam exchanged a wordless, nervous glance. Looking back at the General, Daniel summed up their answer neatly.

"Not a clue."

* * *


	5. Unexpected Bugs

Chapter Five

Stepping through the shimmering event horizon, Sam felt herself breathe somewhat easier. The tension on base had been stifling as everyone prepared for the imminent arrival of the Commander-In-Chief. Thankfully, SG-1 had managed to sneak out for their mission just before he'd arrived on base. His limousine had been pulling up to the checkpoint when Walter had been dialing out. It now seemed likely that they'd miss his visit entirely, which was just fine with Sam.

Apparently, her attitude was shared by her teammates, who also seemed to relax slightly upon stepping through the gate. Even Daniel, who began sneezing almost immediately on arrival, looked relieved to be away from the SGC.

"You've gotta love the smell of…" Jack glanced around. "…blue dandelions." In fact, the most abundant flower on the planet's surface did appear to resemble a bright, cornflower-blue dandelion. It was the same flower etched on the surface of the urn they'd brought with them.

Thinking of the urn, Sam took a deep breath. "I really hope we can figure out what to do with that artifact we brought."

Suddenly, Jack stopped, looking around. "Weren't some of Greenborne's men supposed to meet us here?"

Teal'c's dark eyes seemed to be taking in the entire horizon at once. "Indeed," he said grimly. "I hope they have not encountered any unforeseen complications on their journey."

Jack's face twisted in a grimace. "Unforeseen obstacles seem to be the status quo today," he muttered under his breath.

As if proving his words true, Sam suddenly reached up and grabbed her head, eyes closed in an expression of excruciating pain. In seconds, she'd fallen to her knees, unable to stand against the mysterious onslaught exploding in her brain. Wordlessly, she shrieked in agony.

Immediately, Jack turned to his second-in-command, concern etched on his features. When he saw her sinking slowly to the ground clutching her forehead, he rushed to her side. "Carter? What's going on?"

She shook her head, unable to reply. Then, with a faint whimper, she collapsed to the ground in a boneless heap.

Jack's mind sharpened with a sudden rush of adrenaline. Raising his P-90, he scanned the area for enemies as he barked an immediate order. "Daniel, dial us out of here. I have no idea what just happened, but I'm not waiting to find out if it can happen again."

Teal'c had already raised his staff weapon menacingly and was searching the landscape with nearly-black eyes that missed nothing.

Seeing that Teal'c was covering their escape, Jack rushed to his incapacitated second-in-command. "Carter, hang in there!" he commanded under his breath. Taking her pulse, he was relieved to feel it thrumming beneath the pale skin of her wrist. It was fast, but it was strong.

He was about to pick her up when Teal'c's voice rang through the clearing. "O'Neill!"

The next few seconds seemed to occur in slow motion. Just as Daniel finished dialing Earth, causing the familiar vortex to whoosh from the stargate, a single alien figure appeared directly in front of the party. It's face was frighteningly inhuman. Large, insect-like eyes examined the group dispassionately. Mottled, grey-green skin shimmered in the afternoon sunlight as three-fingered appendages rose slowly in the air.

In an instant, Jack, Teal'c, and Daniel found themselves repeating Sam's earlier actions, falling to the ground as a spear of painfully intense sensations penetrated their minds.

Jack felt as though every noise he'd ever heard was suddenly being played in his ears at once while, simultaneously, he viewed every image in his memory and felt every texture which had ever brushed his skin. Just when he thought he couldn't stand another moment, the sensation receded, leaving him weak and nauseated.

Then, much to his dismay, a booming voice resounded in his head.

_You are the leader. Why have you summoned us?_

Jack shook his head, rubbing his temple in an effort to regain his equilibrium. "We didn't mean to summon you," he rasped queasily. "It was a mistake."

The voice replied immediately. _We have come far for your summons. We would know the creatures which called to us from across the stars._

Slowly, Jack's vision cleared enough for him to clearly view the creature standing before him. "We're explorers," he said groggily, "trying to protect our homeworld from invasion."

The voice in his head quieted somewhat. _I have determined that from your memories._

Jack blinked. His memories? "You looked in my head?" he asked, sounding somewhat annoyed.

_We needed to be sure you were not our enemies._ The voice was unapologetic.

Grimacing, Jack looked around at his now-unconscious colleagues who lay sprawled on the hillside. "Let us go," he said wearily. "We didn't mean to call you in the first place. If you've really read my mind, you'll know we're not a threat to you."

The alien seemed to consider his request. _Agreed._ _But we will take a sample of your species to study._

A sample? Suddenly, adrenaline shot through Jack's bloodstream. That didn't sound good. "I don't think so," he said firmly.

Disregarding his objection, the creature stepped toward Sam. _This one has a remarkable mental capacity for a lower species. We shall take her._

Suddenly, Jack jerked himself into a standing position. "NO!" he yelled forcefully. Given his weakened state, the sheer intensity of his protest was impressive.

The creature seemed to view his distress with interest. _You have an attachment to this one,_ it observed dispassionately.

Jack swallowed. It hardly seemed worth denying, when the thing had already violated his brain. "Yes," he hissed through clenched teeth.

Mirrored bug-like eyes regarded him intently. _You have an attachment to all these here,_ it commented, _but to that one most of all._ It seemed puzzled.

Feeling totally unprepared for this encounter, Jack tried to lift his weapon, but found himself utterly paralyzed, frozen in place like a statue. The only thing that seemed to be obeying his will was his voice. "Don't you have others you care about?" he asked desperately.

The creature seemed surprised by the question. _There are others of value to me,_ it admitted.

Jack leapt on the statement frantically. "Then you understand why I don't want you to take any of them."

It pondered his words, tilting its head in a nearly-human gesture. _I am unable to see what you value about these creatures. And as for that one,_ it gestured to Sam _you are not even her mate._

Closing his eyes in frustration, Jack tried to formulate an appropriate response. "My people have rules about choosing mates," he said evenly.

The alien shifted its attention to Sam for a moment. _I do not understand_, it replied. _If you find value in this one's company, why do you not fight to change the rules?_

Jack laughed humorlessly. "It's a bit more complicated than that," he muttered. "Please, just let us go."

Unfortunately, the strange creature didn't seem ready to do so. _Your memories indicate that you have kept your… _feelings… _for this one hidden._ It seemed uncomfortable with the idea of emotions, but clearly was trying to communicate in the most accurate way possible.

Rolling his eyes, Jack was struck with the absolute absurdity of the situation. He was trying to explain to a bug-eyed alien why he'd never admitted his feelings for Sam. Since he had a hard enough time explaining that particular decision to _himself_ on any given day, his chances for rescuing the rest of his team weren't looking so good. "I had reasons," he snapped.

The alien looked at him with its cold, unblinking stare. _These _feelings _you experience… They are new to my kind._ It stepped away from Sam and approached him, sending a slight tingle of relief down his spine. _Aid me in transmitting these sensations to my hive and I will let you return to your home_.

Jack blinked. "Aid you? Can't you just take what you want?" The damned thing had already read his mind.

It replied matter-of-factly. _We can sense surface motives and thoughts, but our mental powers are not without limits. You are able to block us from the things you protect most closely._

That admission set Jack back on his heels. If what the creature said was true, he could probably count on the fact that nothing terribly sensitive had been compromised. None of his teammates would have revealed anything classified without one hell of a fight. "So what am I supposed to do?" he asked, praying for a chance to escape from this nightmare with his colleagues beside him.

The creature looked from Jack to Sam and back again. _Open yourself to the value you find in that one,_ it replied. _I will relay the experiences to my colony so that we may understand your attachment._

Jack exhaled sharply. _Open_ himself to his feelings for Sam? He had no idea what that meant. "You're going to have to be more specific," he said dryly. "I'm afraid I'm new to this whole psychic thing."

It seemed to understand. _Think of her_, it responded simply. _Fill yourself with all that you treasure about her._

Swallowing nervously, Jack steadied his nerves. "Okay," he said reluctantly, "but don't get upset if I don't do a very good job." He'd spent an immense amount of energy in the last seven years repressing his feelings for Sam. He had no idea how he could possibly let go and share them now with a creepy insect-like alien under life-or-death circumstances. Still, it wasn't as though he had much of a choice.

Closing his eyes, Jack tried to concentrate on the things he found most admirable in his second-in-command. She was loyal, hard-working, and tough as steel when the situation called for it. Beyond that, she was the most amazing problem-solver he'd ever had the privilege of working with.

_More._ The voice in his head seemed to understand that this was merely the surface of his feelings for her. Taking a deep breath, Jack pushed further into his soul and tried to dig deeper.

He thought of her kind heart and noble instincts – how she always put the needs of others before her own. He began remembering the countless selfless acts she'd initiated during her career at the SGC… holding Cassie, even though they'd all thought it would end in death; crying shamelessly at Daniel's deathbed; urging Jack to leave her in the bowels of a Goa'uld ship, simply to save his life.

_More!_ Now the alien's voice was more than a means of communication. Like a wedge, it seemed to creep into the opening he was making into his subliminal mind – widening it so that more of his emotions could pour out into his present consciousness. Suddenly, Jack found himself immersed in the most intimate feelings he'd ever experienced.

…Desperate moments passed as he waited for the ring of Jaffa footsteps to sound both of their dooms. It didn't matter. He couldn't leave her.

…A feeling of grim certainty overwhelmed him as he strode toward the Tok'ra lie detector. He'd save her, even if it meant his own life was forfeit.

…The rush of giddiness in his gut was punctuated only by a slight twinge of guilt. He knew she'd have no recollection of his actions when the next loop started. But he'd be damned if he didn't go after what he wanted just once. It would be worth it, if he could only sweep her into his arms for a few, perfect seconds.

Scenes flickered in his head faster than the frames of a movie – the glimmer in her eye when she'd laugh at one of his jokes… the feeling of elation when they'd escaped near-death once again… the sound of her voice as she analyzed something impossibly complicated…

The feel of her wrapped in his arms.

The taste of her on his mouth.

The agony of knowing she wasn't meant for him.

The yearning he felt every time he looked at her.

All at once, a floodgate within him seemed to open, releasing every gut-wrenching emotion he'd ever felt about the beautiful woman lying on the grassy hill beside him. All of the conscious thoughts and images he'd ever experienced were slowly consolidated into one, perfect feeling of bittersweet longing and affection. Every moment he'd ever spent desperately wishing for a different ending to their story was distilled into a single crystal-clear emotion.

Love.

Slowly, Jack felt himself emerging from a haze. In the back of his mind, he realized that tears had been unconsciously streaming down his face, though he had no recollection of shedding them. As his eyes focused on the scene before him, he suddenly realized that the creature was looking at him… differently.

_I am humbled_, it said through their mental connection. _Such an experience is unknown in my kind. We are changed._

Strangely, Jack could almost sense a shift in their connection when he stared into the creatures eyes. Where before there had only been crisp, calculated strategizing, now there was something deeper. Wearily, he looked at the alien and prayed for assistance. "Can we go now?"

_Yes._ The answer triggered a wave of relief in his exhausted brain. _My kin and I thank you for sharing your experiences. We will remember you and your species for some time to come,_ it stated solemnly. Then, with as little ceremony as it had appeared, the alien seemed to blink out of existence.

Suddenly, the radio on his vest crackled to life.

"SG-1? Are you all right?" General Hammond sounded almost as dazed as Jack felt.

Totally immersed in his own mudded feelings, Jack didn't even process the odd note in his commander's voice. He interpreted the question as Hammond wondering what was taking so long for the team to step through the gate. Glancing around, he was relieved to see his teammates starting to stir on the ground. "I think we're okay… I'll explain what I can when we're back through the gate," Jack rasped into the microphone. "O'Neill out."

* * *

As the four members of SG-1 stumbled through the event horizon onto the embarkation platform, they were initially unaware of anything unusual. However, seconds later, as the gate deactivated, it was apparent that something _very_ strange was happening.

Dead silence engulfed the gate and control rooms. Not a single person spoke. No one even _moved._ And every eye in the immediate area was glued to the four ragged teammates who'd just stepped through the gate – or at least on _two_ of them.

Jack exchanged a nervous, uncertain look with the rest of his team. By the wide-eyed, hesitant looks on their faces, none of them seemed to understand what was going on, either. He was about to comment on the silence, when the door to the gateroom opened and two figures stepped into the room.

As soon as he got a good look at the people approaching him, the words died quickly in Jack's throat. Instead, he found himself snapping a reflexive salute at his Commander-In-Chief. From the corner of his eye, he could see Sam respond almost in unison with him.

"Sir," he said crisply, breaking the silence.

The President, a former Navy officer, returned the salutes smartly. "Glad to see you're in one piece," he said sincerely. His tone of voice indicated that there had been some doubt that they'd make it back unscathed.

Jack blinked, not aware that their mission had even been on the President's radar. "Thank you, sir."

Exchanging a meaningful look with the President, Hammond spoke next. "Can you tell me what happened out there?" he asked, gesturing to the now inactive stargate.

Exhaling slowly, Jack tried to formulate the least complicated explanation. "When we arrived, no one from Greenborne's party was there to meet us." He seemed suddenly startled. In all the chaos, he'd totally forgotten about the other SG team still stationed offworld. "I can't say for sure what happened to them, but I can make a pretty good guess." When Hammond's brows lifted in surprise, Jack continued his account. "We'd been there for less than a minute, when suddenly, Major Carter collapsed. Five seconds later, this green, bug-eyed alien showed up and did some sort of psychic mind-blast thing to us. Jackson and Teal'c also fell unconscious." He grimaced. "Apparently, it kept me awake because it wanted to talk to me. Anyway, we…" _talked_ wasn't the right word, "communicated for a while. It eventually learned a little about humans and decided to let us go." That was certainly close enough to the truth to give an initial idea of what had happened. Jack had no intention of saying more until he'd had a chance to digest the whole incident.

Hammond exchanged another significant look with the President, making Jack a little nervous. They seemed to know something he didn't, which, in his experience, was never a good sign. "Doctor Frasier will need to examine the three of you," he said, gesturing to Teal'c, Daniel, and Sam. "Colonel O'Neill, I think we'd better head upstairs for a little debriefing before you go to the infirmary."

The four teammates looked at each other in mute surprise. Jack had just admitted to having an alien probe his brain, and he was being debriefed _before_ being checked by Janet? To say this went against protocol was an understatement. Still, an order was an order. "Yes, sir," Jack replied quietly. He had no idea what was going on, but he was pretty sure he was about to find out.


	6. The Butterfly Effect

Chapter 6

Sam was about to head into the main examination room in the infirmary for the usual post-mission medical check when Janet suddenly swooped in beside her and steered her to a private room. Shutting the door firmly behind them, the doctor rounded on Sam with a wide-eyed look. "What the hell happened out there?"

Blinking in surprise, Sam regarded her friend blankly. "Pretty much what Colonel O'Neill explained. We stepped through the gate and noticed that SG-17 wasn't around. Five seconds later, I had the worst headache of my life and passed out. When I woke up, the gate was open, and we came back through." She shrugged. "Wish I could tell you more, but I was unconscious for most of it."

Janet shook her head slowly. "Boy did _you_ miss one hell of a show."

Sam sat down on a cot and looked oddly at the other woman. "Janet, I just told you I spent an unknown amount of time passed out on another planet, and you're not even going to ask me how I'm feeling?"

Waving her hand impatiently, Janet seemed to disregard Sam's concern. "I promise I'll do a complete check-up in three minutes. But trust me, you _really_ want to hear what happened while you were out."

Feeling like she'd stepped into a parallel dimension – an occurrence which wasn't entirely outside the realm of possibility – Sam nodded uncertainly. "If you say so."

Pulling up a chair, Janet sat down opposite the cot and smiled. "Sam, I have no idea _how_ it happened, but while that gate was open, some kind of mental message was sent through it. Anyone within 100 feet of the gate on levels 27 and 28 was totally overwhelmed by it. Even people outside the immediate are got some residual feelings from the event." She sounded somewhat breathless as she continued. "From what I understand, both General Hammond and the President were actually moved to tears."

Sam's face was slack with surprise. General Hammond and the President _crying_ in the control room? "What was in this 'mental message?'" she asked curiously.

Janet looked her friend in the eye. "I was close enough to get the gist of it, but not close enough to get all the details."

Sam exhaled sharply. "Oh, for crying out loud, Janet. Tell me what happened." In her frustration, she didn't even notice her usage of Jack's trademark exclamation.

The young doctor paused for one last moment, drawing the suspense to its peak before speaking. "Somehow, we all received a mental broadcast of Jack's feelings for _you_."

As Janet's words sank into Sam's already-befuddled brain, she felt the color drain from her face. "What?" she gasped. "You've got to be kidding me," she moaned. Then, closing her eyes, she buried her face in her hands.

"Oh, honey! Don't be upset!" Janet's voice held nothing but compassion. "Sam, I was only on the fringe of the affected area, and I was completely bowled over by what I felt." Pulling her friend's hands from her face, Janet forced Sam to meet her warm gaze. "Nobody who experienced what I did today could remain unmoved by your situation. It was this incredibly pure sensation of everything wonderful concentrated in one, perfect moment. Sam, you can't imagine what it's like to feel someone else's emotions on such a deep, basic level."

Sam smiled wryly. "Actually, Janet, I can. Not only were Jolinar's memories and feelings part of my consciousness for a while, don't forget the emotion-recorder that Narim gave me."

Janet rolled her eyes. "Okay, smarty-pants. So maybe you _can_ imagine." Then, her eyes sharpened. "But I guarantee that if you'd experienced _Jack's_ feelings, you wouldn't be looking so grim right now."

Sighing, Sam tried to explain her discomfort. "After everything that happened this weekend, I was hoping that things might change between us. But if the _President_ knows how Jack feels, I'm sure there are bound to be repercussions." She cringed. "They hauled him off to the briefing room, Janet."

The doctor shook her head. "Sam, the President would have to be inhuman to not be moved by what he experienced today." She smiled gently. "I always knew Jack had feelings for you, but I honestly had no idea how deep they ran." Reaching out, she picked up one of Sam's hands and squeezed it. "Honey, he respects you so deeply, it's almost reverence. And the profound sadness he's borne because of your difference in rank…" she trailed off. "I always worried that you felt more for him than he did for you. But I was wrong. He was just really good at hiding it."

Sam felt tears form in the corner of her eyes. "You got all that through a mental image?"

Janet laughed. "I told you, it was one hell of a show."

Sighing, Sam smiled in spite of herself. "I'm sorry I missed it," she said wistfully.

With a knowing glint in her eye, Janet stood and picked up her stethoscope. "I have a feeling you're going to get to see the director's cut." She grinned. "Up close and personal."

* * *

Across the base, Jack sat numbly in a leather conference chair, looking at the two powerful men in the room with an expression of horror and disbelief. "You're telling me that Mr. Bug-Eyes transmitted his psychic hotline to _the entire SGC?_

"

Hammond shook his head. "No, son. It appears that only those within a few hundred feet of the gate were affected. Probably no more than a few dozen people felt anything noticeable, and only half of them understood the context of the feelings."

Jack blinked. "The context?"

The President jumped in. "Some of the people farther from the gate felt a sense of euphoria, but didn't associate the feeling with you or Major Carter."

"Uh-huh," Jack said woodenly. "Well, that makes me feel much better. Only twenty-or-so people were exposed to my innermost thoughts. And, so what if two of them are the base commander and the President of the United States." The sarcasm in his voice was blatant, even for Jack.

At that, General Hammond raised a hand. "Those people involved in this incident are being debriefed as we speak. You can rest assured that they will act with the utmost sensitivity and discretion. We all understand that the day's events were outside the realm of your control. I'm satisfied that you acted in a manner which secured the safety of your teammates. And, based on what you've just told us, I think it's unlikely that the aliens were able to pry any classified information from your minds. At any rate, It doesn't sound like they were very interested in our technology or civilization."

Jack sighed. "Right." They were only interested in his feelings for Carter. Well, he supposed, he'd gotten over the supreme discomfort resulting from his run-in with the Tok'ra lie detector. This situation wasn't much different, except that his humiliation was a bit more public. He imagined the embarrassment would fade in time. "So, can I go now?" He really wanted to be alone for a while. The feelings of exposure were bad enough. But, worst of all, he'd just realized that he needed to shove all those feelings back down into a corner of his soul for the foreseeable future. Just when he'd thought he and Sam might be able to quietly rearrange their positions and start a relationship, something like this had to happen. Now, he wouldn't be able to _look_ at her without drawing attention to them both. Somehow, he'd manage to pull it all together. But before that happened, he'd need some solitude and a stiff drink or two. Or five.

Hammond looked as though he was about to release Jack when the president stood. "General, would you mind giving me a moment with your officer?"

Looking startled, but not incredibly surprised, Hammond nodded crisply. "Of course, sir. I'll be in my office if you need me." With a reassuring look at Jack, he turned and left the room.

The president sank into the chair opposite Jack and eyed him carefully. "I'll be honest," he said frankly, "when I read your file after my inauguration a few years ago, I thought you might be trouble. You sounded like an irreverent, fly-by-the-seat-of-your-pants kind of officer."

Jack smiled wryly. "Respectfully, sir, I am."

The older man chuckled. "Yes, I can see that. But, in the last few years, some fairly amazing reports have crossed my desk. And in that time, I've come to respect you and the members of your team in ways I doubt you understand." He sighed nostalgically. "Wasn't too long ago, _I_ was out on the front lines, defending our freedom. And I never encountered a shred of what you see everyday. You and your men are the reason we're all sitting here safe-and-sound today. And up to today, that's exactly how I thought of SG-1." He eyed Jack sharply. "As you and your _men_." Smiling, he shook his head. "Chauvinistic, I know. But in the military, we tend to be a little testosterone-driven."

The man paused, gathering his thoughts. Jack remained silent, unsure of where the conversation was going, and unwilling to divulge another word of his thoughts. Thankfully, his commander-in-chief didn't seem to require a response.

"I seem to recall some grumblings from a few unnamed critics of this organization about your relationship with Major Carter. But I always assumed that those complaints were simply low-blows being aimed at some fine officers."

Jack tensed, waiting for the worst. In the last three hours, he'd given the President more than enough reason to demand his resignation – or worse, convene a court martial. There was no way he was going to escape this encounter unscathed.

The expression on the President's face was unreadable, which made his next words come as a total surprise. "Today, I came to understand just how low those accusations were. I was not only able to understand how seriously you take the laws of our military, but I've experienced the toll that upholding those laws have taken on you in a most profound, personal way." His steely eyes were sharp with intensity. "Everyone in the service learns to deal with self-denial on some level," he acknowledged, "but you've redefined that idea completely, son. What I felt today…" he exhaled slowly. "I'm not sure most people would have sacrificed something so important to their own happiness in service to their country."

Jack shrugged. "With all due respect, sir, the men and women of our military are willing to lay down their lives for this country."

The president merely smiled. "But you and I both know that facing death is easy, compared to the burdens we're forced to carry in life."

Meeting the older man's eyes, Jack nodded grudgingly. There was a great deal of truth to his statement, borne out by the fact that Jack had only signed onto the stargate program because he'd thought it was a suicide mission.

After a moment, the President's serious mood seemed to lighten. "Colonel, I'm sure you won't believe this, but there aren't very many perks in my job." He smiled wryly. "Nice house, great china… but the hours stink, the pay is lousy, and most of your time is spent deflecting criticism of things you did the day before. Which is why I'm going to enjoy this all the more."

Jack looked at the man suspiciously. After the day he'd had, _nothing_ would surprise him at this point.

"Colonel Jack O'Neill," the President said formally, "as your commander-in-chief, I formally exempt you from Article 134 of the UCMJ, insofar as it pertains to one Major Samantha Carter. Since Article 134 most generally prohibits fraternization between officers and enlisted personnel, it permits more discretion in its application between officers of different ranks. Given the exemplary service of both yourself and Major Carter – which, of course, includes several instances of saving the universe from impending doom – and given the selfless manner in which you've both conducted yourselves, I would be remiss if I did not take this opportunity to formally thank you for your service and reward you both accordingly. Furthermore, I find no reason to separate you from Major Carter during the execution of your duties. Given my intimate knowledge of your personal dedication to professionalism, I am confident that you can continue to function in the same exemplary manner that you currently have demonstrated. However, should you or Major Carter desire re-assignment to another team or duty, every effort will be made to accommodate your wishes." With a broad smile, the President held out his hand. "You have my sincerest thanks, Colonel. It has been an honor bearing witness to your service."

Okay, Jack admitted, he was wrong.

_This_ definitely surprised him.

Taking the President's outstretched hand, he shook it automatically. He was humbled, both by the man's actions and his words. "Thank you, sir," he said dazedly. Could this really be happening?

Seeing the uncertainty lurking in Jack's eyes, the President chuckled. "Don't worry, I'm not going to change my mind. General Hammond already knows of my decision, and agrees with it whole-heartedly. Now," he said, grinning broadly, "why don't you go get your girl?"

For the first time since returning to the base, Jack felt a smile tug at the corners of his lips. "I know you're the President and all, sir," he said dryly, "but I wouldn't let Carter overhear you calling her _anyone's_ 'girl.'"

* * *

Janet looked Sam in the eye and smiled. "Looks like you're as healthy as ever," she said cheerfully. Seeing the anxiety on her friend's face, she patted her gently on the hand. "Sam, it's going to be okay. You'll see."

Shaking her head, Sam wished she could agree. "I don't know, Janet. This changes everything. I have this terrible feeling that we're going to go back to the way things were, and all I'll ever have of him is one crazy half-hour making out in a bar."

Janet couldn't suppress a chuckle at the blunt assessment. Opening her mouth to reply, she was cut off by a swift knock on the door before she could get a word out.

Sam's eyes flew to her friend's, raw fear lurking in her expression. Clearly, she was terrified of what might happen next.

Squeezing Sam's hand one last time, Janet crossed the room and opened the door. She was not at all surprised by what she saw. Smiling, she greeted the figure outside warmly. "I just finished checking her out," she said. "She might have a bit of a headache for the next day or so, but she's otherwise healthy as a horse." Then, stepping out of the way, she allowed the visitor to enter the room while she snuck out behind him, closing the door as she left.

From across the room, Sam gazed into a familiar set of coffee-brown eyes with a mixture of anxiety and relief. It felt _so_ good to see him. Part of her longed to jump up and throw herself into his arms, just to feel the comfort of his embrace. Instead, she settled for a quiet, "Hi."

Jack looked at her, suddenly overwhelmed by the enormity of the situation. Stepping forward, he pulled up the chair which Janet had occupied earlier. "This has been one hell of a day," he noted frankly. "And given the day I had _yesterday_, that's really saying something."

Sam smiled. "Never a dull moment around here," she agreed softly.

Looking somewhat overwhelmed, he nevertheless managed to meet her nervous gaze calmly. "Speaking of which," he said, "you'll never believe what the President just said to me."

Sam swallowed, clearly in suspense. "Probably not," she replied, "but go ahead and tell me anyway."

Somewhere deep in his eyes, a spark of something deep and profound glimmered as he spoke. "He exempt us from Article 134, at least in how it pertains to each other."

Given the enormous strain she was under, it was not surprising that Sam had to think about exactly what Article 134 referred to. Suddenly, she gasped, eyes flying to meet Jack's. "That's the frat reg!" she exclaimed incredulously.

His mouth quirked up on one side. "Not only that, he actually _thanked_ us for our exemplary service. I think he'd have given me a medal if he'd had one on hand."

Sam's face was nearly comical, set in a slack-jawed expression of utter disbelief. "Are you kidding me?" It was a fair question. Jack had been known to tease his colleagues on occasion.

He simply rolled his eyes. "Sam, do you honestly think I'd kid you about _this_? Especially _right now?_"

She blinked. "I suppose not," she replied faintly. Then, as the implications of his words set in, she met his gaze again, this time rather intensely. "So what does this mean?" she whispered.

Jack regarded her sincerely. "It means that we can keep our jobs and still make out in bars," he replied in typical Jack fashion.

Smiling in spite of herself, Sam felt a giddy kernel of hope spring up somewhere in the vicinity of her heart. "Is that something you want to do?" she asked, sounding more vulnerable than she'd like.

He considered her question for a moment. Then, with a note of dry humor, he responded with a question of his own. "Which part? Keeping my job? Or making out in bars?"

Sam rolled her eyes. "Both," she replied, sounding amused and affectionate at the same time.

Leaning forward, Jack ran a hand down her cheek tenderly. "They're both definitely on my list of things I'd like to do," he said quietly. "So, how 'bout it, Major? Are you interested in exercising our new presidential exemption?"

Sam's heart fluttered violently in her chest. "I'm interested," she whispered.

"Good," he replied firmly. "Because I think I'm about to defy Article 134 right here in the infirmary." Then, with the sweet knowledge that this would _not _be the last time he kissed her, Jack lowered his mouth to hers and savored his hard-earned reward.

* * *

Lounging on an overstuffed sofa, Jack looked around his cabin and smiled. Given the somewhat unusual events of the last mission, it hadn't been hard to convince the rest of his team to spend some time off-base. And, since his little retreat in Minnesota was readily available, no one seemed to mind the somewhat cramped quarters. Still, he hadn't managed to talk anyone into ice fishing yet.

Sam was shaking her head violently. "I don't care how much fun you say it is," she said firmly, "there is _no_ way I'm sitting outside in 12-degree weather on a frozen lake. Not when there's a perfectly cozy fire going in here."

Teal'c nodded sagely. "I must concur with Major Carter. This excursion was supposed to be relaxing."

Jack rolled his eyes. Then, turning to his last remaining colleague, he raised his eyebrows in question. "Daniel?" he asked beseechingly. "Interested in a little ice fishing?"

The archaeologist smiled kindly. "Not a chance in hell."

Sighing, Jack settled back in the sofa, throwing one arm around Sam as he sank into the cushions. "Fine," he said, sounding offended, "see if I ever ask you guys to come back here again."

Daniel threw him a knowing smile. "Something tells me at least _one_ of us is safe from that particular threat."

Flushing slightly, Sam stuck her tongue out at her friend. It still felt a little odd to be so open about her feelings for Jack, but her colleagues had accepted the change with the same even-keeled equilibrium with which they handled every other bizarre, life-altering thing thrown at them. Sam knew that, in short order, this would feel normal.

It already felt damn good.

A comfortable silence settled over the group, broken only by the warm crackle of the fire. In the company of friends, each member of the team felt utterly and completely at peace. No one counted on the feeling lasting very long. Soon, the SGC would be making new demands on their time and energy. But for now, in this cozy cabin sheltered from the blistering cold outside, all was very right with the world.

Suddenly, Daniel tilted his head as a thought occurred to him. "Do you know what I just realized?" he asked the group in general. Not expecting a response, he continued after a brief pause. "Considering everything we went through to get that stupid urn, we never did figure out what, if anything, it had to do with the communicator I turned on." He smiled ruefully. "We went all the way to Milwaukee for nothing."

Jack smiled enigmatically. "Oh, I don't know about _that_," he said. Then, exchanging a meaningful look with Sam, he winked. "Not only did I get to see the beer exhibit at the museum, but I picked up this great, 'I CLOSED WOLSKI'S' bumper sticker for my truck."

Daniel smiled at Teal'c. "I'm pretty sure that's not _all_ that you picked up," he said with a chuckle.

Nodding at Daniel's assessment, Teal'c settled back in his easy chair. "Indeed." Then, with his trademark sincerity, the Jaffa looked at the rest of his team intently. "But, perhaps next time, you will show me the racing sausages."

* * *

A/N: Well, that's it! Hope you enjoyed it. And for all my fellow cheeseheads out there, please know that any fun I poke at Milwaukee is meant in great love. I adore Milwaukee!


End file.
